Whenever I Fall at Your Feet
by Aussiegirl41
Summary: Bill literally falls head over heels for Laura. A/U.
1. Chapter 1

Laura Roslin hated the way libraries insisted on having shelves that only six foot giants could reach. She kicked off her heels, retrieved a step ladder from the end of the aisle and wheeled it back to the 'T' section. Disconcertingly, she still had to strain her body on top of the ladder to touch the book she was looking for. She flipped over the cover and started reading the blurb when she heard a thump behind her.

She swung around to find a man in Colonial uniform lying in a heap on the ground beside her.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," his deep voice seemed to almost vibrate across her body sending an involuntary shiver up her spine. "I think I tripped on these," he said, pulling a pair of high heels out from under him.

"Oh Gods!" she automatically swore and jumped down to retrieve the offending footwear from him. "Sorry," she added as she once again donned her shoes.

She bent down and grabbed at his arm to assist him with standing. A faint hint of attraction thrummed through her body as she felt the muscles of his biceps through the thick wool of his tunic.

"Hop outta the way before I hurt you." Something in his tone made her think he was quite used to giving orders and having people follow them. She felt her hackles rise immediately at his tone. She was only endeavouring to help him, after all.

He stood with a grunt and she was perversely happy to note that he wasn't much taller than she was. Almost exactly the same height, she felt a little dazed when his eyes, the clearest blue she had ever seen, met hers with a stony glare.

"This is a public library, not your living room where you can leave your belongings strewn around," he practically growled.

"Maybe you need to watch where you're going," she snapped, refusing to back down from his typical superior soldier's attitude.

"Like I was expecting there to be a pair of shoes lying on the floor in the aisle of the library?" he bit back.

"I did apologise," she concentrated on keeping her tone civil but realised that her voice still held a hint of irritation.

"In the future, you should remember you aren't the only patron here," he snapped, striding off before she could add any further retort.

0.0.0

Bill Adama walked into the East Caprica Public Library and chuckled to himself at the memory of his last visit to the establishment nearly three weeks earlier.

He had made an idiot of himself. He'd fallen flat on his face in front of a beautiful woman.

He wasn't usually so clumsy. In direct contrast to his stocky appearance, he was, in fact, quite agile. Years of sparring in the boxing ring combined with need to manoeuvre deftly around a battlestar - climbing up and sliding down ladders between decks - ensured he was light on his feet.

He smiled again, conceding that he had been temporarily distracted that day. After three months in space, how could any red-blooded man be anything but distracted when presented with legs like that woman possessed, and full view to boot, as she reached up to a higher shelf. He had also appreciated the way her tight, short skirt stretched across her shapely ass before he'd found himself kissing the carpet at her feet.

Hiding his embarrassment, he had retaliated against her in a way completely opposite of his usual good manners. Her green eyes sparkled with anger and she'd refused to back down when he had turned his infamous glare upon her. It was a look that had withered men twice her size and yet she had merely straightened her back and stood tall.

0.0.0

Laura checked out her books and headed for the coffee shop that was located on the second floor of the library. She was looking forward to relaxing with a strong cup of coffee and losing herself in one of the new crime novels she had found.

For once, she turned off her cell phone. She didn't plan on turning it back on, or returning to the office, for at least another hour. The last time she had indulged in such decadence was over three months ago when she had taken time out to spend a day at her family's graveside. She had no idea why she felt the need to escape today, but she guessed it might have something to do with Richard's attitude towards her over the last few weeks since she had finally put an end to their affair.

After ordering, she sat down at a table near the window. About to bury her head in one of her books, a familiar voice caught her attention. That man, she thought. The soldier who had tripped over her shoes and been so oafish about it. She'd recognise that voice anywhere. It was one of the sexiest voices she had ever heard.

Before she could glance back down at her book, he walked past her towards the far end of the cafe. He wasn't wearing his uniform. Instead, he sported a simple white t-shirt and a pair of dark blue denim jeans. Her eyes involuntarily wandered to his ass. She didn't usually do that. She liked men's arms. In her youth, she had gone out with way too many pyramid players for this reason alone. The soldier had a nice ass though, and if she remembered correctly, his arms were fantastic too.

He turned and sat in a chair facing in her direction. She hoped he was far enough away so he couldn't see her peeping over the top of her glasses to inspect his arms further. They were exposed today, their dark colouring on display, in stark contrast to the white of his t-shirt. She flushed as the notion of his dark skin contrasting with her own pale whiteness as the thought suddenly flared into her mind.

Without seeming to notice or recognise her, he also pulled out a book and donned a pair of round wire-rimmed spectacles. She thought the glasses softened his features which, at first, seemed inelegant and more suited for one of her father's favourite boxers than a man one would bump into at the library.

She could now see that his t-shirt had the Colonial Fleet insignia with a word printed above it in one corner. Her coffee arrived as she was still pondering what the word might be.

The waitress moved to his table and delivered his own mug. She watched as, in the act of politely looking up to acknowledge the girl's presence, his eyes drifted towards her. She ducked her head back down and studied her book intently, attempting to school her features with a nonchalant look.

Ten minutes later she cursed him under her breath. The words on the page continually floated in front of her eyes and she had to re-read each sentence three times to get the general gist of the plot. That ass, those arms, the voice and those eyes – he was distracting her.

0.0.0

Even without being able to see her legs, Bill Adama recognised the woman at the other end of the café immediately. He surreptitiously studied her as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through her hair, spoiling the carefully controlled style that no doubt took an incredible amount of time to achieve each morning.

Despite the fact she now had several strands out of place, she was the epitome of class and grace. She was dressed in a power suit like every other Caprican female executive – yet she wasn't like every other Caprican female executive. She oozed something extra which he couldn't quite put a finger on.

He wondered what she did for a living - lawyer, business management, marketing, journalism. Whatever it was, he doubted she would be interested in an old soldier on shore leave lounging around in jeans and a t-shirt. A Commander in the Fleet might wow the girls in the typing pool, but he got the feeling this one would need something more to be impressed. An Admiral might spark some interest, but even then he doubted that titles and uniforms would grab her attention for long.

He wondered what she did in her spare time other than read. He guessed she was in her late forties, maybe early fifties, yet her body seemed to be something that girls half her age would envy. He wondered if she joined the hundreds of other women who jogged around the Caprican City Parklands each morning -half intent on toning their bodies, half intent on being seen by the right people - or if she slaved away on a treadmill in the pristine gymnasium of her high-rise apartment building.

Other than an obvious love of books, he imagined that he and this woman had nothing in common. He couldn't imagine her sitting in a gutter emptying the contents of her stomach outside a strip club after being so pumped full of booze by your best friend and wife.

For all appearances, she was Caprican through and through. He had been born in Caprica but everything about him screamed out his Tauron roots. Carolanne, blinded by the infamous reputation of his father, had ignored his background until their marriage had started to crack and splinter. That was when his ex-wife used the Tauron gangster and ghetto image, while attempting to land cheap shots during their many arguments.

After his divorce he had convinced himself that Carolanne had been out of his league all along. He thought the same about this woman. What chance would he have of catching her eye?

He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. Why the hell was he thinking about catching this woman's eye anyway? Maybe he'd been in space too long. Maybe it was time for him to toss in his dogtags and head to Leonis to live in a shack by the sea and see what solid ground might have to offer him.

Thinking about retirement made him think of Lee and the appointment he had to keep with his son. Lee was discontented with remaining in the Fleet and was striving to disentangle from the four years of service that he'd signed up for when going through a rebellious stage. Now it seemed he was expected to sort things out because he was a Commander with the ability to pull strings whenever it suited Lee. He had no intention of letting Lee take the easy way out and use him to gain an escape clause. How he was going to tell his son this was making him extremely unenthusiastic about their shore leave's reunion. Since Zak's death, theirs was a tenuous relationship at best and this meeting would, without a doubt, drive yet another wedge between them.

He sighed and checked the time. He'd have to leave now if he was going to make it across town to the military base where Lee was stationed for the next few weeks.

He tried to determine how he should act when passing the redhead's table as he left. A smile? A nod? Was a polite 'hello' too much? Maybe if he hadn't spent an inordinate amount of time studying and thinking about her, the question wouldn't be so difficult.

He finally decided on just a nod. Good manners meant that he could hardly pretend he never recognised her. He dragged his chair back and walked the path between their tables in a most measured way.

She glanced up as he neared. Suddenly he found himself lingering near her table. What was he doing? This hadn't been one of the possibilities that he had debated.

"Hello," he said before he could stop himself.

"Hello," she drawled.

He had been right. She was out of his league. In fact, she was so classy she was probably in a complete league of her own.

He needed to keep walking and ignore the current pang of desire that sprang to life when, leaning back in her chair to look up at him, the material of her blouse had tightened, accentuating the curves of her breasts. He needed to block out the slight hint of pale cleavage which she was inadvertently exposing to him as she arched one perfectly plucked eyebrow in his direction.

He searched for something articulate to say.

"Good book?" he finally asked, trying to find some common ground between them.

"I don't know. I've only just started. It should be good. It's been on the Caprican Higher Education's required reading list for three years now, yet somehow I've managed to avoid reading it."

He glanced at the title. "Marcus Michaelson's Man for the Hour," he read. "It's got good characterisation, but the plot is a bit dodgy in places."

"You've read it?"

"Yeah, about ten years ago, but I think I've got the right story. He's the politician who only wants to get elected to win back his ex-wife."

"That's what the blurb says."

"Yeah. Maybe I just didn't like the premise. There's no way I'd go through all the heartache he does to win back my ex-wife."

"You're divorced?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, suddenly wondering how many times he had blurted out 'yeah' to her. "Anyway, I think it's time the Education Department changed their recommendations. I wouldn't like my 18 year old reading it and thinking that every ambition in life had to be all about winning over a woman."

She tilted her head back and studied him. "What would you recommend to the Education Department?"

"Sorry?"

"What book? If the Education Department was to remove this one from its required reading list, what would you want to take its place?"

"Mmm, tough question. One springs to mind. Searider Falcon. Magnus Svenson. Know it?"

"I've heard of it but I'm afraid I've never read it."

"You should. It's good," he said trying not to react to her tiny, crooked smile.

He needed to get going before he got any idiotic ideas about asking her out for a drink or something equally ambitious. He made a show of checking his watch. "I apologise - I need to be somewhere. I hope you find it more entertaining than I did." He gestured to the book and headed for the exit.

As he climbed into the car he'd rented, he found himself thinking about scheduling his plans while on shore leave around visiting the library a bit more frequently.


	2. Chapter 2

"You have a nine o'clock appointment with Senator Janssen and a budget meeting with Olivia Nichols at eleven o'clock. And Vance called. Requested a meeting this afternoon."

"This afternoon? Requested or demanded?"

"Actually I think after your discussions last week, he's requesting. Called himself. Seemed to be in a most hospitable mood."

"I wonder if that should worry me. Okay, I'll play. How about three o'clock this afternoon? But make sure it's here. I want home ground advantage when I talk to him."

"Okay. I'll go and give him a call," Billy said as he rose to leave her office.

"Billy?" she stopped him before he left. "Do you know what a Husker is? In relation to the military? The Colonial Fleet to be exact."

Billy frowned. "No, ma'am. I've never heard that terminology. Would you like me to find out for you?"

"Oh, no, that's okay. Thank you, Billy."

Laura sipped at her coffee. 'Husker' had been written on the soldier's t-shirt and the meaning of the word had been driving her insane ever since. Actually, if she was honest with herself, everything about the man had been driving her insane. She didn't know him. Didn't even know his name. Her first conversation with him had been a brief fiery argument. Her second a polite one regarding books. Yet she had spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about him.

She picked up the internal phone.

"Yes, Madam Secretary?" Billy asked politely in her ear.

"I've changed my mind. Can you please research what a Husker is?"

0.0.0

Bill held the minute piece of wood that would become his new model ship's chock delicately between the claws of a pair of tweezers. He applied a dab of glue and carefully pressed it down into place before sitting back and studying the overall effect. With each new addition, however small, he reviewed his plans, making sure that he placed the parts in the correct positions.

It was a painstakingly slow process but that was why he enjoyed it. He was under no pressure to complete the ship. Only the rare visitor to his Caprican apartment would take the time to admire the finished product. The ship was almost a three dimensional jigsaw that required complete concentration on his part, thus keeping his mind occupied. He didn't have time to worry about any of his current personal issues.

He had just decided on which piece to insert next when his door bell interrupted his progress.

He wasn't expecting anyone. That she was standing outside his door took him by surprise.

"Hello, Bill. Are you going to let me in?"

"Of course," he said, politely moving aside and allowing her entry. "I'm just a bit surprised to see you, that's all. I didn't realise you knew I was on shore leave."

"I spoke to Lee."

He sighed, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. It had taken them nearly two years to be back on civil terms. Telling her he wasn't in the mood for one of her sermons probably wouldn't be conducive to keeping the peace.

"You wanna drink? Coffee?"

He wasn't going to offer anything stronger. He could tolerate his ex-wife only if she wasn't drinking.

He poured them both a mug. Carolanne accepted the coffee and sat down on the couch.

"How's Marshall?" he enquired about her new husband.

"He's fine but you know that's not what I want to talk about. I want you to help Lee, Bill."

"The Fleet paid for four years worth of College tuition for Lee. Lee now pays the Fleet back with four years service. It's a simple arrangement."

"It's not that simple, Bill. Lee's miserable. Every day is a struggle for him."

"It's his duty. He has to complete something in his life. He has to follow through and show some responsibility."

"Bill, Lee doesn't share your passion. You live for the Fleet. You always have. It's one of the reasons why we divorced."

"It's not the only reason."

"I know," she sighed in acknowledgement. "We both made mistakes, I'm not denying that. And I don't want to bring it all up again. That's not why I'm here."

"It's time Lee stood up. Became a man."

"There are different types of men, Bill. You're one type. Lee's another. And the simple truth is I don't want to lose him. I've already lost one son."

"The chances of Lee being involved in an accident like Zak are a billion to one."

"Please, Bill, I wasn't…" she broke off and took a long sip of coffee. "I wasn't always the best mother. After you left, things…I…" She paused again. "Before I was diagnosed and put on medication I wasn't always, um, calm."

"I'm sure Lee understands now."

"Maybe. But he certainly hasn't forgiven me."

"Hmph. Reminds me of your father."

She laughed and he remembered why he had fallen in love with her all those years ago.

"Please, Bill. Between the two of us, we frakked up. I just want him to be happy."

0.0.0

After a polite knock, Billy walked into Laura's office and handed her a plain manila folder.

"The information you wanted, Madam Secretary," he said. "If there's nothing else, I think I'll be leaving for the day."

She glanced up at the clock and realised for the first time it was almost seven o'clock.

"Of course, Billy. What time's my first appointment tomorrow?"

"Eleven o'clock, ma'am."

"Why don't you come in a bit later then? Ten or so," she suggested.

With a nod and a smile, Billy left.

She opened the file and was surprised to see a photograph of the man from the library, dressed in a Colonial uniform with several medals adorning his chest, staring back at her. She removed the paper clip from the documents and began reading.

_Commander William Adama,_ she read_. Enlisted in the Colonial Fleet during the First Cylon War as a Raptor and Viper pilot. Call sign – Husker. Received a Commendation for his first mission before taking a leave of absence from the Fleet. Reinstated fifteen years later to the status of Major, he rose through the ranks to become Commanding Officer of the Battlestar Valkyrie prior to his current position as Commanding Officer on the Battlestar Galactica._

She placed the dossier on her desk and removed her glasses. Husker was his call sign. Adama – a Tauron name. That explained his dark colouring and proud bearing.

Her soldier was a real war hero. Shooting down Cylons the same time as she was learning to walk and talk.

0.0.0

"Okay," he said after returning to the couch after making several phone calls, "Admiral Linden has agreed to let Lee bug out after three more months of service."

"I know you don't agree this is a good idea. I only hope one day Lee will thank you for it."

He just grunted.

"When are you due back on Galactica?"

"I've got three more weeks. Then I ship out for six months."

"What are you doing on Friday?"

"Friday? Nothing, why?" he asked cautiously. Ever since their truce, she had been trying to set him up with a variety of her wealthy acquaintances. Never her true friends, he noted with some chagrin, just random women she'd met at one charity event or other.

"Marshall is away on Picon for business and I need a date on Friday and I was wondering if you'd be it?"

"You're asking me on a date?"

She gave him an impatient look. "It's not that type of date, Bill. I need someone to escort me. The President and members of the Cabinet are going to be there and I don't feel comfortable going alone, that's all."

"It's one of Judith's events, isn't it?" It disconcerted him how easily he could see through her after all these years. Judith Marcom was Carolanne's supposed best friend. They both came from similar privileged backgrounds but had, over the years, slipped into the habit of constantly trying to outdo each other in just about every aspect of their lives.

"It's a charity event, Bill. Black tie. You still own a tuxedo?"

"No, I'm afraid not." He wondered what type of life she thought he led that he would still possess a tuxedo.

"Oh, well. I suppose you could wear your uniform."

"That would be the correct protocol."

"Fine. I'll pick you up on Friday evening at 1900 hours then," she said, continuing with the habit of speaking in military time after all these years, before she left.

He sat staring at the empty coffee cups and swore softly to himself. Not only had Carolanne talked him into helping Lee, she'd also wrangled him into escorting her to some sure-to-be boring charity function.

0.0.0

Laura stood looking at herself in the mirror for what seemed like the hundredth time. Could she really go to the Charity Ball in this outfit?

She'd spent the last six years blending in at these events - always quietly standing in the corner with an unassuming manner, transmitting the message that the President would never look twice at the mousy little wallflower who worked with him on the Education portfolio.

The First Lady never suspected.

Contemplating changing her outfit for the evening, the door bell rang. Her escort for the evening had arrived.

Second thoughts dogged her. Maybe inviting him had been a foolish idea. She hoped he wouldn't read too much into the invitation. She certainly wasn't planning on inviting him into her bed. Her wounded pride had gotten the better of good sense when she decided to ask him to join her tonight. Between her appearance and the beefcake beauty that would be hanging on her arm, she was certainly going to metaphorically slap Richard Adar in the face tonight.

0.0.0

Bill handed Carolanne a glass of non-alcoholic punch and glanced around the room. There seemed little expense spared for the 'charity' event.

"There's the First Lady," Carolanne said, pointing out the tall blonde woman at the other end of the room.

"Mmm," Bill answered, completely disinterested.

"There's the Secretary of Commerce, Charles O'Grady and his wife, June. You remember her, don't you? She was June Smithers. Went out with Mark Graham for a while."

"Yeah." He had no idea who Mark Graham was, let alone June Smithers-O'Grady, but he thought it easier to keep this admission to himself. Carolanne had always failed to notice that he had spent more of his time at these types of gatherings chatting to the bartender than mingling with her many influential friends.

"I don't think Neil Jones is coming."

That was at least one name he did recognise - the Secretary of Defense.

"Lucky for him," he murmured. "You wouldn't want to be embarrassed when your ex-husband confronted him about his budget cuts."

Carolanne laughed. "Well, well, well. There's one cabinet member certain to get some attention tonight."

He followed her gaze - a woman in a black dress, seemingly conservative at first glance, until she turned around. The woman's hair hung straight down her back teasingly covering some of the large expanse of white skin being exposed.

"I don't think she could be wearing underwear in that thing," Carolanne sniped. "I do like the rose thing though. Very clever."

An appliqué row of red roses adorned the bodice of the dress, drawing his - and most likely every other male in the room's - eyes to the faint trace of cleavage that swelled over the top of the dress. Seemingly staking his claim, a young man stood beside the woman, his arm possessively looped around her waist. Bill watched as the man leaned down to whisper something in her ear. She tilted her head and smiled up at him. Bill started in recognition. It was the woman from the library.

"There were a few rumours floating around about her and Adar a while back but it would seem she's attempting to put them to rest with that young Lothario on her arm."

"She's in Adar's cabinet?" he asked.

"Yes. Laura Roslin. The Secretary of Education."

"Education?" he repeated. He had been giving advice regarding literature to the Secretary of Education.

Bill couldn't take his eyes off her.


	3. Chapter 3

Laura relaxed when Sean removed his arm from her waist and headed towards the bar to order them both a drink. Inviting him had been a mistake. His conversation was peppered with innuendo which she had, thus far, chosen to ignore. At some point during the evening, she would need to set him straight.

There was only one reason she was at this soiree – it was part of her job. She didn't care for polite chit-chat over champagne with the Caprican 'who's-who'. However, the politician inside of her acknowledged the fact that she needed to make an appearance and put forth some effort. At least she was dressed for the part tonight. Her eyes scanned the crowd for anyone she thought she ought to mingle with.

That was when she saw him – the man she had come to think of as her soldier. Her heart skipped a beat. Wearing his Colonial Fleet uniform, he certainly stood out in the crowd. His polished suave appearance demanded respect. Her eyes lingered on his muscular frame and then slowly moved up and focused on his face. Those mesmerising blue eyes of his were staring straight at her.

Her tongue darted out to moisten her suddenly too-dry lips before she smiled politely. In return, Commander William Adama gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

"Laura."

She regrettably dragged her eyes away from the Commander's face to politely accept the drink that Sean offered her.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked.

She took a sip from her glass before glancing back over to where the Commander stood. He was blatantly inspecting her date. His eyes then drifted back to her and she automatically felt herself tilt her head up defiantly at his unspoken disdain.

She mirrored his gesture and studied the woman standing at his side. The small blonde was a clone of every other woman in the room. Laura was sure, if she got close enough, she would find evidence of cosmetic surgery, every woman's vain attempt to keep youthful.

"Laura?" Sean interrupted her musings.

"Sorry?"

"Would you like to dance?"

She looked across at the dance floor. At the back of the room, a small band played unobtrusively. Several couples were swaying in time with the familiar tune they were playing.

"Laura?" Sean repeated.

She involuntarily glanced at the Commander again. He was walking purposefully towards her. She could feel the scorn still emanating from his gaze.

"Ms. Roslin," he said. She tried to hide her emotions at the sound of her name rolling off his tongue.

"Commander Adama," she replied. His eyebrows rose slightly; she knew his name and title.

"Laura?" Sean prompted. She glanced at her date wondering spitefully how many times he could utter her name in that inane way.

"Sean, this is Commander William Adama. Commander, Sean Ellison. Sean's a lawyer with Hockings and Partners."

"Lawyer?" Adama asked.

"A junior partner to be exact," Sean said. "And you are a Commander? In the Fleet? What do you command?"

"A Battlestar."

"An entire Battlestar?"

"Yes. I'm the Commanding Officer of approximately 4000 crewmembers."

"That's an impressive number, Commander," Laura said.

"She's an impressive ship," he murmured.

All three of them stood sipping at their drinks in silence before the Commander broke it with a most unexpected question.

"Would you like to dance?"

"Dance?" Laura repeated in a dazed voice. "With you?"

He calmly held her gaze.

"Yes," she agreed quickly before she had a chance to change her mind. "Thank you."

He deposited their drinks to a nearby table before offering his arm to her. Placing her hand upon it, she shivered, feeling the lean muscles of his arms contracting beneath the material of his uniform.

His large hand splayed across the skin of her back as he guided her around the dance floor. She had expected his fingers to feel calloused and rough against her skin. Instead, they were smooth and hot.

Settling herself within the circle of his body with disconcerting ease, she teased him a little. "You're not going to fall over again, are you?"

"If some exasperating woman's left her high heels lying around the dance floor, I may."

She giggled.

"If I do fall, this time I'm taking you down with me."

She almost whimpered at the erotic images that suddenly flashed through her mind.

"So who's the other man?"

"Other man? Sean?"

"No, the one you're using Ellison as some sort of vengeful ploy against."

Her eyes flashed at his assumptions – correct though they may be.

"What makes you think there's another man?"

"Ellison doesn't look like he'd satisfy you for more than a fleeting moment. The 'all looks and no substance' type. I think you want more in a man."

"How the hell would you know what I want in a man? I'm afraid two conversations in a library does not give you free rein to presume anything about my personal life, Commander Adama. "

At his first impudent words, she had pulled back in his arms and made eye contact with him. He had no idea how hypnotising his eyes were.

Suddenly she felt his hand on her back begin to make sweeping circles. She shivered with goose bumps at his touch.

"Excuse me, Laura."

Her temper flared stronger when she heard the familiar voice.

"Mr President," she murmured.

"May I cut in?" Richard Adar asked the Commander. "I need to speak to my Secretary of Education. Considering her appearance tonight, I will probably need to take a number."

"Of course, Mr President. Ms Roslin." William Adama gave her a distant nod before leaving her alone with Richard Adar.

0.0.0

Bill headed for the bar. He needed a drink - a strong one.

He wasn't usually so impolite. He couldn't believe he had been such an arrogant ass, asking her questions about her love life. Who was he to judge? This was his usual motto. He had no idea what had gotten into him tonight.

She was the Secretary of Education. She was currently dancing with the President of the Twelve Colonies, and he'd had the temerity to be condescending to the extreme.

He knocked back the amber liquid the bartender had poured in one fast gulp.

0.0.0

"Who was that?" Richard asked as he drew Laura into his arms for a dance. She noted he was very careful not to put his hands on her bare back. She wondered, almost hysterically, if the heat from William Adama's touch had left imprints on her skin.

"He's a Commander in the Fleet."

"I know that. You said that. But who was he? Is he important? Should I go and talk to him?"

She sighed. Richard Adar – forever the politician. "No. I doubt he'll be making any donations to your campaign."

"Why were you dancing with him then?"

This was Richard Adar at his finest. Always looking for what he could get out of every person and situation, he never did anything without a reason.

She decided to give as little information as possible on William Adama.

"He hardly seems your type," Richard continued before she could answer. "Now, the young Hockings' litigator, he's got Laura Roslin written all over him - pliable, doting - a virtual pet."

"It's none of your business anymore, Richard."

"Laura, isn't it time you forgave me?"

"There's nothing to forgive." This was true. She had forgiven him for the fiasco he had created with the Union. She had forgiven him for attempting to force her to resign. She had moved on.

"What if I promise to fit you into my schedule on Tuesday?"

She extricated herself from his embrace. Forgiving him for any sticky situations she found herself in because of her position was one thing; falling back into her previous relationship with him was quite another.

"My schedule is fully booked," she said.

"Laura, you're being ridiculous."

"No, actually, for once, I'm not. I'm afraid I don't wish to dance any longer, Mr President."

"Laura…"

"Mr President," she ground out. "My date's father is Niall Ellison. That should be motivation enough for you to smile politely, put your hand on my arm and guide me over to the table."

She took a step backward. In an instant, Richard plastered a grin on his face, grabbed her arm and escorted her back to her table. He shook Sean's hand and talked to him for several minutes concerning the legal rights of the Gemonese. Keeping up appearances was Richard Adar's speciality.

0.0.0

Laura Roslin sipped at her coffee and stared down at the blueprints on her desk. The entire idea seemed reasonable to her, but what would he think? Would he think it a worthy pursuit or just another Government exercise in public relations?

With a polite knock, Billy entered Laura's office, followed by two men wearing Colonial uniforms.

"Ms Roslin, nice to meet ya. Admiral Alexander Lincoln," the first officer, a tall bald man with an obvious Leonis accent, said as he extended his hand. "And this here is Commander William Adama."

"Yes. I believe we met at last week's ball, Commander Adama," she said, holding out her hand.

"Yes, of course, Madam Secretary," he replied. Fixated on his hands, she willed herself not to react to his touch. It was hopeless. She remembered how they had felt on her bare skin when they danced.

She wondered if his stoic expression would crack if she told him about the fantasies she had indulged in during the last few nights about him and his hands.

Showing the men to a seat and offering them coffee, Billy allowed her a moment to compose herself.

"As you may already know then, Bill here is on shore leave for another week, but he's kindly agreed to attend today's meeting before he takes up residence on Galactica again," Admiral Lincoln said.

"Thank you, Commander," she said. The Admiral had called him Bill. It suited him. Bill was such a strong name – concise, to the point. Commander Adama didn't look the type to engage in trivial pursuits or small talk. "Have you had a chance to look over the plans?" she asked.

"Yes, Madam Secretary. We have a few suggestions for changes. Mainly security and safety concerns. However, overall, I believe the Fleet will give the project a big green light," Lincoln answered.

"Excellent," Laura said. "I've advertised in several publications this week for the position of Project Manager. One of their roles will be to liaise between my office and the Fleet. Do you wish me to send you over a short list of possible candidates?"

"Yes, ma'am. That surely would be appreciated," the Admiral drawled.

"What sort of time frame do we have? I mean, in our initial reports we agreed to a Decommissioning Ceremony in six months. If, however, the refurbishment isn't complete by this date, will there be any cause for concern?"

"Galactica isn't going to fall out of the sky," Bill Adama growled.

Laura glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "I should hope not, Commander, given that children will be the main visitors to the Battlestar. I was merely asking if we needed to factor in any time and cost contingencies."

"Well now, ma'am, the thing is you'll be mostly dealing with the crew of Galactica themselves when it comes to any modifications. And I can guarantee that any crew with Bill here at the helm will have your little flying classroom up and ready in the time allocated."

"You demand perfection, Commander?" she asked.

"Perfection doesn't exist. However, I believe I demand a level of competence, Madam Secretary."

Admiral Lincoln guffawed loudly. "I should think with Saul and Sherman, perfection would be near on darn impossible!"

She was sure, for just a moment, Bill Adama's lips quirked at the Admiral's comment.

"What will you do, Commander?" Laura asked on a whim.

"Do?"

"When Galactica is decommissioned? What are your plans? Will you be taking up a new commission within the Fleet?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Retirement is a possibility?"

"I haven't decided yet."

She merely hummed at his second tight-lipped response.

"I'm sure we can find Bill something to do down on Picon headquarters if need be," Lincoln said.

"You'd be happy with that? You wouldn't yearn for the sea of stars outside your window?" Laura asked.

"Actually, there are no windows in my quarters or the CIC where I spend most of my working day. We have an observation deck that offers a panoramic view."

"I see."

"Maybe you should organise a trip on out to Galactica, Madam Secretary. To see for yourself before any of the modifications begin."

"Yes, Admiral Lincoln, that sounds a very good idea."

0.0.0

Bill slammed his fist into the punching bag with as much force as he could muster. The Fleet frustrated the hell out of him. That woman frustrated the hell out of him.

He had received plans and an official letter from the Admiralty informing him of Galactica's future via a courier a mere two days ago. The plans, seemingly being so succinct, had obviously been on the drawing board for several months, yet, they had only just decided to inform him.

Laura Roslin… That she had known his name at Carolanne's stupid charity function surprised him. Now the pieces seemed to fall into place. She probably had an entire dossier on him in the top drawer of her desk.

He still couldn't believe her final comments about visiting Galactica. He grunted, imagining her in that little black dress from a week ago while on the metal walkways and ladders of his Battlestar.

Imagining her lying on his rack while he discovered whether or not she was wearing any underwear under the dress, he took another swing at the bag.


	4. Chapter 4

Billy walked into Laura Roslin's office and greeted her in his customary polite manner. He placed the usual pile of letters onto her desk before handing her a package wrapped in brown paper. "This arrived in the morning's post. It's marked 'personal.'"

She thanked him and turned the package over, checking the return address. It wasn't one she recognised. Pulling at the wrapping, she blinked with surprise – a book. _Searider Falcon_, she read. Flipping open the front cover, she found a folded note. Written in bold, clearly legible handwriting was the name _William Adama_. She smiled. No small talk from the Commander, she thought. Not even in correspondence.

Bill Adama looked at Saul. His XO held a clipboard with several requisitions for him to sign. Typically, they started their early morning meetings with shared coffee and a discussion of general ship business. This particular morning, however, Saul sat rigidly upright in the chair opposite him.

"You okay?" Bill asked.

"Me? Of course. Just had a bit of a big night," Saul admitted.

"You've had a few of those lately. We've got another four months until the Decommissioning. I need you to see things through with me."

"I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle."

"Heard from Ellen?" Bill asked casually. He could safely presume that if Saul was getting drunk and playing triad with the pilots, Ellen's lack of contact was most likely the root cause.

"Not lately. You know Ellen. She likes to make me suffer."

"Yeah," he agreed. He did know Ellen. Sometimes he regretted the fact.

"You made any decision yet?" Saul asked.

"Decision?"

"On what you're gonna do after they chuck us off this bucket."

"Not yet." He didn't want to admit he was avoiding thinking about it. The Fleet had made it clear when he had taken this commission that Galactica would be his last command. Working at Fleet Headquarters on Picon wasn't appealing. Neither was retirement.

Saul nodded and flipped over some pages. "We got two new requests from _that_ woman."

Bill chuckled. Saul had been dealing directly with the Secretary of Education's office for two months now and he complained about the assignment at least once a week.

"I hope you're not being disrespectful."

"Aw, Bill, I'm the epitome of decorum. Don't worry. In fact, the lady lowered herself to call personally last night. Usually I only get the chance to speak to that frakkin' idiot of a Liaison Officer."

"She called? What did she want?"

"You, actually. I fobbed her off."

"Oh?" he concentrated on keeping his tone disinterested. "Do you know why she wanted to talk to me in particular?"

"Nah, she never gave me a straight answer on that one. Anyway, when you've got the stomach for it, you'll need to ring her office, I guess. Don't want to upset the woman at the top."

"No," he agreed, reining in carnal thoughts of Laura Roslin on top.

0.0.0

Bill Adama was absentmindedly slurping at a bowl of noodles while completing the day's log at his desk when the telephone interrupted him. He carefully lowered both his pen and chopsticks when Petty Officer Dualla announced the identity of his caller.

"Adama," he said after Dee had connected the call, glancing at the chronometer on his wall. It was 2200 hours in Caprica City: quite late for a business call. Was she still at her office, or was she calling from her home?

"Commander." Even through the crackling line of a Battlestar, he reacted unsteadily to the throaty tone of her voice.

"Madam Secretary," he answered. "What can I do for you?"

"You're a very hard man to get hold of, Commander." He bristled at her obvious assumption that he had been avoiding her calls. Obviously she was used to dealing with people who sat in an office all day pushing pens and paper around their desks.

"I did get your message, Madam Secretary. However, Galactica is still a working Battlestar. I have several responsibilities on board other than the museum refurbishment," he said defensively.

She hummed. He noticed she did that a lot. This hum was laced with sarcasm.

"Have you a pen handy?" she asked, changing the subject.

He frowned, automatically picked up his pen, and jotted down the date she recited in the margin of his log.

"That's the day I'll be visiting Galactica for an inspection of the progress thus far," she informed him.

It was a mere four days away.

"Mr Doral seems to think that guests' quarters could be available if my party were to stay overnight," she said.

Aaron Doral was the Liaison Officer Saul was continually locking horns with.

"Yes, I'm sure we can make some arrangements."

"Thank you, Commander. When I finalise the names of my colleagues who will also be visiting, I'll let Colonel Tigh know."

He remained silent. He never trusted himself not to be rude if forced to comment. He wondered how much of an entourage a Secretary of Education needed to traipse around his Battlestar. The prospect of entertaining a group of civil servants did not fill him with enthusiasm.

"I have a list of concerns. We can go over them together."

_A list of concerns,_ she said. He wondered how long the list was.

"I'm sure you can think of a few things you would like to say to me personally as well," she said.

He rubbed his eyes. He shouldn't be talking to her after a shift. He was too tired to think clearly. The few personal things that sprung to mind had nothing to do with the Museum.

"Commander?"

"Yes," he finally agreed. "We'll be ready for your visit, Madam Secretary."

"I'm enjoying the book, by the way." The pitch of her voice changed. It took on an almost light-hearted and flirty quality.

"I'm pleased." He was. It was an irrational notion - wanting Laura Roslin to share his enjoyment in a book.

"Maybe we could discuss its themes and characterisation over dinner when I'm on Galactica. After all the shop-talk, of course."

"Yes, of course."

"Good night, Commander." Her voice seemed to take on an even throatier tone. It could be the line, he supposed – or his imagination.

"Good night."

Hanging up the phone, he stared the receiver. Had he just agreed to have dinner with her? He abandoned both his current dinner and logs and stalked off to the head. He needed a shower. Thinking about Laura Roslin, a cold one was definitely in order.

0.0.0

Even though Laura Roslin had studied the schematics of Galactica, she still wasn't prepared for the sheer magnitude of the Battlestar when she came aboard from her shuttle Raptor.

Everywhere she looked there seemed to be endless walkways leading to who knew where. Crew members, all seemingly intent and sure of their destinations, bustled past her and Billy as they followed Aaron Doral along one of the metal paths. When Adama had told her he was too busy to meet her personally, she had thought it was yet another case of him avoiding her, but now that she was experiencing the size of his ship firsthand, maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt.

A young man, with a stiff correct appearance, which she often expected from men in service, greeted them when they arrived at a hatch marked with the words 'Ward Room'. After their introductions, Lieutenant Gaeta escorted her through the hatch to a large room containing several tables and chairs, whiteboards, a projector screen, and a lectern - but no human occupants.

She took the proffered chair and did her best to remain outwardly calm. If Adama wished to play little games with her during this trip, that was fine. She'd been a politician for a long time and had tussled with many an opponent far more credentialed than Commander William Adama.

0.0.0

He was over twenty minutes late. Surely she would think he was keeping her waiting deliberately. He entered the Ward Room just ahead of Saul who trailed behind him unwillingly. Lieutenant Gaeta and Chief Specialist Tyrol were already in the room.

"Madam Secretary." He walked up to where she sat at one of the tables. "I apologise. I had a minor emergency."

"Only minor?" She gave him a sour look from over the top of her reading glasses. "Considering how long we've had to wait, I expected it to be major."

Silently he counted to ten. He glanced around the room. Other than two men, one sitting either side of her, she seemed to have no other companions with her.

"My assistant, Billy Keikeya," she introduced the young man sitting on her left side. Towering over him, the boy stood to shake his hand politely. "And y_our_ Liaison Officer."

"Doral, Aaron Doral," the short man wearing a gaudy print shirt with a bright green jacket sitting at her right finished her introduction. "I'm the Public Relations District Manager of the Civilian Division of the Fleet, based at Picon. I've been seconded over to the Secretary of Education's office for the duration of Galactica's refurbishment," the man rambled.

"Yes, we are much privileged to have Mr. Doral in temporary residence at my office," she drawled.

Bill quickly glanced back at the Liaison Officer to gauge the arrogant man's reaction but it seemed that her sarcasm had sailed over Doral's head. He concentrated on keeping his face stoic as he turned to introduce his senior crew.

"Colonel Saul Tigh, my Executive Officer. I believe you've spoken on the telephone. I presume the Lieutenant and Chief Specialist have made their introductions?"

"Yes, Commander, we've had sufficient time to become acquainted."

He ignored her dig and took his seat directly opposite her. She looked the quintessential business woman again today: a demure white blouse, a conservative dark blue blazer and pants.

As soon as he sat down, her assistant handed out an agenda. She was definitely all business.

0.0.0

Later that evening Laura Roslin found herself in William Adama quarters, and the Commander was full of surprises.

She was expecting a sterile working environment with a dining and sleeping area attached. Instead, she found a room filled with touches of hominess and an endearing assortment of clutter. His possessions spilled out of every possible nook and cranny - an eclectic collection of knick-knacks, antiques, photographs and books amongst classical paintings, lush warm colours, and a comfortable leather couch which she was presently resisting sinking into.

She silently slipped off her shoes and let her toes dig into the plush rug that lay beneath the impressive coffee table before her. He was at his desk in the corner making a call to CIC, checking on the crisis that caused his tardiness earlier.

She had toured Galactica after lunch. He had begged off joining her on the tour due to his 'minor emergency' which had apparently turned into a 'crisis' during the morning. She had been unsure whether or not he was being truthful or if it had just been an excuse to avoid her, until Petty Officer Dualla let it slip that one of the Viper pilots had 'botched' their landing and was in a critical condition in the ship's sickbay.

"Would you like a drink, Madam Secretary?" he asked, his voice suddenly behind her. She turned.

"Yes, thank you, Commander."

"Ambrosia?"

"Lovely."

He walked over and handed her a glass of the green liquid. Then, to her complete shock, he matter-of-factly picked up her shoes, walked over to the hatch door and placed them neatly to one side of it.

"Just in case," he murmured as he returned to take a seat at the other end of the couch.

She lost herself in a fit of giggles. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so much. She also couldn't stop. Every time she thought she had herself under control, she would glance over at his face that he was managing to keep so stony-featured, see the twinkle in his eyes, and start again.

0.0.0

William Adama thought Laura Roslin was beautiful from the first moment he met her. Now, sitting on his couch trying to control her breathing, and hiccupping in an effort to stem the giggles, she looked absolutely lovely. Her face was completely relaxed. She swept her hair haphazardly back from her face with her fingers in an absent-minded gesture which he doubted she knew was an incredible turn on.

At the Charity Ball, the slip of material that had barely covered her had been overtly provocative. Dressed conservatively, with minimal make up-he thought she was the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life.


	5. Chapter 5

Laura was finishing some last minute paperwork when the telephone shrilly ringing in the otherwise silent office startled her.

"Roslin," she snapped.

"Laura? Still working? You need to ask your boss to give you a break now and then."

"So it would seem," she replied smoothly. "It's late," she said unnecessarily. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no. Have you received the date and time for this month's Quorum meeting?"

"I'm sure our assistants have our schedules under control," she said sarcastically.

"It's going to be on Picon. Did you realise?"

"No."

"The Cabinet members will have to stay overnight in a motel."

"I see."

"You do? That's excellent. I'll see you there Laura." He terminated the connection.

She slowly hung up the phone and sighed. She hadn't heard from Richard since the charity ball and she had been lulled into a false sense of security. Now, apparently, he expected her to jump back into his bed on their trip out of town.

Quorum meetings – meetings to organise more meetings – were notoriously boring. Sub-committees were formed to 'investigate' issues and report back to other committees and Government departments. New Quorum members attended with enthusiasm and zeal. Members who had been representing their colonies for longer periods of time merely made up the numbers – sitting with disinterested and jaded expressions.

Cabinet members, like herself, were in attendance to note the current political trends of the constituents and make mental notes for the future. It would be quite possible for her to be absent and have Billy or another assistant take a transcript of the meeting, except Richard was a President who was all for appearances.

Cabinet members, dressed in the appropriate costume of the host colony, were instructed to smile for the cameras at the beginning and end of the conference. Richard liked to convey to the voters his government's camaraderie. He insisted they portray a unified front. According to President Adar, in-fighting and backstabbing only existed within the opposing party.

0.0.0

Laura was grateful that this particular Quorum meeting was running on time. As soon as she shook the last hand and posed for the last photograph, she collected her suitcase from the conference centre's reception area and climbed into the car that Billy had pre-arranged to meet her.

She stared out at the muted light of the Picon dusk, watching the trees flash past.

Richard wouldn't be particularly happy when he discovered she wasn't staying at the motel with the other Cabinet members.

She wondered, once he finally accepted their affair was over, whether or not he would continue to treat her and her position with any respect, or if he would make her political life hell.

Would she care if he attempted to oust her from her Cabinet seat?

Her political career had become dissatisfying over the past few years without any positive or negative influence by Richard Adar. She was restless. Aside from the Union debacle, which had escalated due to Richard's intervention and not her incompetence, she certainly hadn't been mentally stretched in her position of late. She'd simply been going through the motions. Maybe it was time for a new challenge away from politics.

The car stopped. She stepped out, passed through a security checkpoint, and was led to a jeep.

The jeep sped through a maze of gravel roads and came to an abrupt halt, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

The driver looked upwards, towards the stars; she followed his suit, searching the sky and noticed a small light high above their heads. The light grew larger and larger until it came into focus; it was a Raptor. It hovered in the air, close enough that she could feel the heat and wind coming off the spacecraft.

After illuminating the tree line and roads in their immediate vicinity for a few minutes, the Raptor finally landed and the pilot completely dimmed the lights.

Then, the hatch at the side of the vessel opened. A figure disembarked and headed their way.

It bothered her somewhat how clearly recognisable the man walking toward her was.

She wasn't prepared for the way her pulse quickened and her face flushed when she took in his outfit - his usual uniform replaced by a flight suit which moulded his muscular frame.

He walked across to the jeep, his gait surprisingly graceful. She watched, mesmerised by the movement of the latex-like material that pulled and stretched across his body as he approached.

0.0.0

Bill had originally thought meeting with Laura Roslin at the Picon military base was a good idea. It would be neutral ground for them both. It was also safer for him to avoid the confinement of his quarters considering he was finding it difficult to ignore his growing attraction to her.

Unfortunately, the new setting didn't help. Even here he still faced the dilemma of being distracted by her beauty.

While riding in the jeep, her hair had billowed out behind her making her seem as surreal as a siren sent to tempt sailors in times of yore.

Now, as they followed the young cadet along the corridors of the building, he noticed several tangles and his fingers itched with the urge to delve amongst the tresses. The primitive man in him wanted to pull on her dark golden mane until she offered him every inch of skin on her neck to suckle and lathe with his tongue.

His eyes wandered, studying the lower half of her body as they walked. Not only was her skirt short, giving him a wonderful view once again of her spectacularly long legs, it was also tight. It stretched across her ass and he found himself wondering if she was wearing panties.

They stopped and, while the cadet fumbled with a set of keys, he discreetly attempted to hide the growing evidence of his arousal by adjusting the slippery skin-tight material of the flight suit.

He couldn't remember the last time he was this hard with only visual stimulation.

He hoped that once they sat down for their meeting, with a desk in between them, he'd have everything under control.

0.0.0

"This is a suite, sirs," the cadet said after unlocking the door. "All office facilities you should require are available – telephone, fax, electronic whiteboard etc. There is a kitchenette at the back of the room, but the mess hall will deliver you a meal when you are ready. There are two separate sleeping quarters with private bathrooms on either side of this room. And all three rooms can be locked separately." The boy handed the Commander the keys, then retrieved a laminated sheet from the kitchenette area. "If you need anything else, this is the list of extension numbers, including the mess hall."

"I'll let you freshen up before we get down to business, Madam Secretary," the Commander said after the young soldier departed. "And I need to change."

She couldn't help herself - her eyes wandered over his flight suit again. His hands were clasped together in front of his groin area. She had seen that stance before. Usually from various prepubescent students when she still taught.

He cleared his throat, drawing her attention to his face.

She studied his features. Surely she was mistaken. The Commander was hardly a teenager with scant control over his body. She also didn't think for a minute she was so desirable that he would find himself in such an embarrassing position within a few minutes in her company.

She thought about the evening she had spent with him a month ago in his quarters. He was a knowledgeable man. Their conversation had moved from topic to topic with ease and there hadn't been any awkward silences between them at all.

Now, however, she couldn't think of a single sensible thing to say and instead just stood gazing into his mesmerising eyes.

Suddenly, the mood was interrupted when her cell phone buzzed. She briefly contemplated letting it go to message bank when she recognised the number.

"Roslin," she said.

"Laura? There're a couple of agenda items that were raised today that I'd like to go over with you."

"I'm afraid you'll have to have your assistant send a list of your concerns to my office, Mr President," she said in an even voice.

"Wouldn't it just be easier if you came to the Presidential Suite and we thrashed it out in person?"

"I'm sure it would be, but I'm currently attending a meeting with the Commanding Officer of Galactica."

"Galactica? The Battlestar? Didn't you already visit there recently?"

"That was a month ago, Mr President. The Commander and I agreed to meet monthly until the decommissioning ceremony."

"Monthly? Is that really necessary?"

"The project has a budget of almost ten million cubits, Mr President. I think some of my personal attention is required. Since I'm already here on Picon, the Commander agreed to shuttle down to Fleet headquarters to meet with me. He will, of course, attend to some of his own Fleet business. This arrangement is actually saving the tax payers a great deal of money."

"So, you'll be back at our hotel later?" Richard asked.

"No, Mr President. As my meeting with the Commander is starting so late, we cannot guarantee the finish time. Admiral Lincoln has arranged accommodation at the military base."

"You're staying at the Fleet's base?" She could hear the incredulity in Richard's tone. She doubted he would ever consider staying in anything less than five star. She had noted over the last few years he had become accustomed to life's little luxuries. Richard went from people fawning over him when he was the Mayor to them jumping to attention when he was the Governor. Finally, now that he was President, he really didn't even need to lift a finger if he chose not to.

She wondered if that was why he was attracted to her - the fact that she refused to pander to his ego.

"I presume I should get the message then. If you prefer to hang out in some sterile soldier's quarters to avoid me, I should accept we're over."

She glanced over at Adama. Like any good soldier, he stared impassively ahead while she talked. There was no way she could ascertain whether or not Richard's voice was loud enough for him to hear.

"That seems like a wise idea, Mr President," she said, hoping this time Richard accepted their separation.

"Laura, if you ever change your mind, let me know," Richard said. She was surprised by the emotion she heard in his voice before he hung up.

"Is everything okay, Madam Secretary?" Adama asked once she had flipped her cell shut.

"Yes. Will fifteen minutes be long enough for you to change, Commander?"

"I would think that should be sufficient, Madam Secretary."

She finally gave in first and turned to enter her assigned room. She quickly glanced back around when she heard him turn, letting her gaze linger on his ass in the flight suit before softly closing the door to her room behind her.

She sank down onto the bed without a second thought about Richard's phone call. Instead her mind was filled with illicit images of William Adama and herself in various compromising positions.

It was three months until the decommissioning ceremony. Surely she could act in a professional manner until then.

She hoped that in fifteen minutes, once they sat down for their meeting, with a desk in between them, she'd have everything under control.


	6. Chapter 6

Bill emerged from his room ten minutes later, his hair still wet from the cold shower he'd subjected himself to, and found Admiral Lincoln and Aaron Doral standing in the suite, deep in discussion.

"Ah, Bill!"

He took Alex's hand and shook it warmly. He and Alex had known each other for some years now and he genuinely admired and respected his superior. Quite a few of the admiralty irritated and frustrated him, but Alex's relaxed nature suited his. He did know, however, that one should never underestimate Alex Lincoln. The man did not come to be an Admiral in the Fleet by chance. A lot of people had been fooled by Alex's laid back style and charm, but underneath it all he was clever and smart and knew how to get things done.

He was a little more reticient when Aaron Doral offered up what he could only describe as a cold and limp handshake. He'd had no luck warming up to this man, but valiantly vowed to keep his low opinion to himself in front of Alex.

All three of them turned their heads when the far door opened revealing Laura Roslin. She smiled and greeted the two gentlemen politely, although Bill could tell that the smile she gave Aaron Doral never reached her eyes.

He looked down at his feet, feeling unsettled that he could read her so well, having known her for such a short time.

They all sat at the table and immediately got down to business. Bill acknowledged the fact that Laura Roslin had not arrived at her current position by accident. She was an intelligent woman who asked pertinent questions and put forth logical suggestions.

He was still undecided how he felt about Galactica being turned into some show and tell for children, but he had to admit that the Old Girl had gotten lucky when Laura Roslin had been assigned to the task.

With the exception of the occasional annoying comment by Aaron Doral, the meeting continued smoothly for the next couple of hours. Bill was so engrossed with their discussions that he was quite surprised when the Admiral announced it was 2100 hours.

"I've got to be getting home before Mrs Lincoln thinks I'm having an affair with the Secretary of Education," Alex said in his usual affable manner.

Bill watched Laura Roslin as she laughed and wondered again about the President's phone call. Something in her demeanour when she spoke to Adar on the phone, and at the charity ball, made him think there was more to their relationship than merely professional.

Doral left with the Admiral, something Bill was irrationally pleased about.

Bill made his way to place an order for dinner. "Any special requests?" he asked.

Laura Roslin waved an arm, mumbling a quiet 'whatever' as she kicked off her shoes and removed her jacket and glasses. After he hung up from the mess he turned to see her lowering herself onto one of the armchairs. He marvelled at how her every movement was graceful and feminine.

She leaned back and closed her eyes. "Don't fall over my shoes," she said in a deep voice.

"I'm always on the lookout for them now," he quipped.

She snorted, but didn't open her eyes and he took the opportunity to study her again. He berated himself silently when his eyes immediately lowered to her chest. She was wearing a white blouse that was maybe a little too translucent for his nerves. Her nipples were hardened and erect and clearly visible through the material. He felt himself harden in response.

"When you're through looking, Commander," she said without opening her eyes, "would you check in the refrigerator and see what's available? I would kill for a drink of some sort. Following a Quorum meeting with a meeting with Aaron Doral in attendance was not the best idea I've ever had."

He chuckled as he opened the fridge, buoyed by the fact that she was relaxed enough not to be insulted by his shameless appraisal of her body.

"There's wine, believe it or not," he said.

"Excellent."

He rustled around in the cupboard and poured them both a generous amount.

He moved a side table over next to her chair and set her glass down.

"Thanks," she mumbled, reaching out and taking a sip of the light liquid. "Hmm. It's going to go straight to my head though. I haven't had anything to eat since one o'clock."

"Dinner will be here soon."

"Hmm."

He sat and sipped his drink, occasionally glancing over to where she sat. Her head was reclined, offering him an unfiltered view of her elegant neck, as she clasped her glass in front of her chest. She looked tired. The usually faint lines of her face were more pronounced and there were hints of dark shadows under her eyes.

"When do you fly back to Caprica?" he asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon. I left the morning free in the event we didn't finish everything tonight."

He remained silent, took another sip of his wine and ignored the innuendo that flashed into his mind regarding not getting to everything in one night with her. It was true. It would take him a lot longer than one night to do everything he wanted to with her.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Commander?"

"Yeah."

"What are you –"

A knock interrupted them.

Bill rose and opened the door; a soldier delivered their dinner.

"What did you order?" Laura asked, lifting the lid on the serving tray to inspect their meal.

"Just an omelette, some crusty bread, fruit and crackers. Didn't think you'd be up to anything too heavy."

"Perfect." She picked up a strawberry from one of the trays and dipped it in her glass, then proceeded to suck the wine off it before taking a delicate bite.

He stood frozen, staring at her mouth, his cock twitching uncontrollably in his trousers.

She looked up, caught his eyes and arched one eyebrow. "How's your appetite, Commander?"

He smiled, enjoying her obvious flirting more than he could ever have imagined.

"It would probably best be described as rabid."

She let out a small hum, piled her plate high with food, grabbed a fork and sat back down in the armchair, ignoring the formal table. He followed suit and sat down next to her.

Their conversation dried up for a time as they ate, but he couldn't resist looking across at her mouth every now and then. She, in return, offered him several small smiles.

"I was going to ask," she said after they had both sated their initial hunger, "what are you planning on doing after the decommissioning ceremony? I know you said you were still thinking about it last time I asked, but I thought you may have come to some decision."

"I don't know. I left the Fleet after the First Cylon War. I eked out a miserable existence, basically living in limbo until I re-enlisted." He looked down at his meal and shoved another forkful of food into his mouth. He couldn't believe he'd just revealed to her such intimate details. He should be trying to impress her. Not tell her how he much of a failure he was without the Fleet propping him up.

"The Fleet isn't going to offer you another commission?"

"Doubt it."

"Why not? You're good at your job. I'm sure of it."

"Thank you, Madam Secretary." She had only seen him on Galactica. Galactica was the one Battlestar he had made into a home. He considered a lot of the crew of Galactica his children. In fact, quite often, he felt like a father sorting out the childish squabbles that went on between them. Overall, though, they stifled their personal issues long enough to ensure Galactica was an efficient ship.

He hadn't always been so lucky. Valkyrie was one commission he could have lived without. For the Admiralty to award him with another command, at this late stage of his career, they would have to overlook his shortcomings while in command of that Battlestar.

"They won't offer me another commission," he said, standing to deposit their now empty plates back on the mess hall's tray.

"I'm tired of politics. I have good days. When I see what difference I can make. But when those days are in the minority, I think it's time to move on."

He sighed. He had no idea what advice to offer her. He had little time for politics and even less for Richard Adar. Meeting the man in person hadn't made him alter the low opinion he had already garnered from the false public persona.

"You want another drink?" he asked.

"No. I'll be asleep in five minutes if I do. And I rather thought we'd stay up together a bit longer," she added with another arch of her eyebrow and a smile. "Maybe a coffee?"

He chuckled and moved to find the makings of some coffee for her. "At this rate, when we have sex it will all be over in less than five minutes anyway."

She giggled. "That will never do, Commander. I promise to behave then."

He eyed her from the kitchen. He was rather mystified at how comfortable they were in each other's company. They were almost behaving like an old married couple instead of two people who had only met only a handful of times.

"I'm a little worried about it anyway," she said.

"Why? I may be old, and it may have been quite a while since I've done the deed, but I think it will all come back to me."

"No." She laughed again. "I just mean I've been sitting here like a queen all night while you've waited on me. Ordering dinner, fetching me drinks and such."

"And you think that when we move to the bedroom, I'll demand you do a little more than lie there?"

"Something like that."

Laura was enjoying herself - enjoying their banter, enjoying the fact that she would be making love with the Commander tonight. She wasn't sure when they had tacitly agreed that it would happen, but she was pleased they had.

She wanted him. He wanted her. They were both adults. Both single. She couldn't see any reason why they should continue to deny what they both wanted any longer.

True, their respective positions meant they would be working together in the future, something she should take into consideration. She wished fervently she had thought more of this problem when she had started up with Richard Adar. Of course, the complications of having an affair with a married Head of State far exceeded any she could foresee with having an affair with a commanding officer of a Battlestar.

She watched as Bill Adama walked towards her from the kitchen. He knelt down in front of her, lifted one finger, and ran it down her body from her neck to her navel. She shivered in response to his light touch.

"You can lie there and do nothing if you like." His voice was rough, manly and she shivered again with all the connotations she imagined.

"That doesn't sound very feminist of you, Commander."

"Hmm? Well, I'm all for equal rights. So don't feel like you have to hold back on my account."

He was no longer touching her but the combination of his voice and eyes caused her stomach muscles to clench in anticipation.

"Maybe I should forget the coffee. Skip straight to Adama seduction."

He gave one of his rich sexy chuckles. "I don't have any seduction techniques."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't think so? You don't think you haven't been seducing me since you yelled in the library?"

Unlike Richard, who had pursued her ruthlessly and expertly, Bill Adama's seduction had been a natural progression of their relationship. He had been quietly wooing her all along, but she didn't think he had any more control over his behaviour than she did of responding. Their attraction was one they both now knew they would have to accept. It was also one built on mutual respect, equality and, surprisingly, friendship.

"Not deliberately," he teased. "Do you want to take a shower first?"

She hummed. "Yes. But I think I'll keep the water hot."

He laughed. "You think mine earlier was cold? You really have an ego, Madam Secretary."

She knew he was teasing, but for a moment her confidence wavered. She'd been with a lot of men who had meant nothing – whose opinion meant nothing to her. She had no idea why she wanted everything to be different with Bill Adama.

"I'm not young anymore," she said.

"Compared to me, you're young," he said. "And if it's not perfect the first time, we'll keep trying until we get it right."

She flushed, wondering again how he always seemed to read her mind. How was it that so often he knew what she was thinking before she did?

She stood, offered him a hand, and helped him from the floor.

"My room or yours, sir?"


	7. Chapter 7

Laura Roslin awoke, her hand automatically reaching out to the space behind her. She found it cold and empty. Bill Adama had obviously left her bed some time ago.

She threw her arm over her eyes, momentarily flustered at why it should worry her. After all, that was what she had always wanted in the past, wasn't it? Her partners had been carefully selected to ensure they could in no way ever encroach upon her life and the hard shell of her heart.

There had been Sean Ellison with his youth and ambitious nature. Their relationship, if one could call a few fast fraks after a few shared meals a relationship, had been all about experimentation. He had experimented with his ex-teacher; the mystique of an older woman. She had experimented with her ex-student; a youthful male body, wanting to find out whether or not there was any life left in hers.

She soon found out that frakking a man half her age didn't revitalise her soul or make any of her grief disappear.

As a result, she decided to throw herself into her work. She had accepted Richard Adar's offer to join his campaign and set about making a career for herself. She'd hoped that if she kept busy enough, she could eventually numb the dull ache that had welled at the bottom of her stomach for the last six years.

Somewhere along the way she had taken up with her boss - Richard Adar, with his career and family responsibilities. She had allowed him to pursue her after realising that an affair with the President of the Twelve Colonies was safe from any unwanted declarations of love or, Gods' forbid, marriage proposals.

Six months ago, when debating the subject of teachers and their strike action, she had decided she no longer wanted to be Richard Adar's mistress. In fact, she came to the conclusion she no longer even liked him. He had become a cartoon cut-out figure who worshipped popularity polls and news reports. His single-minded pursuit to claim another term as President had become his entire focus.

Now, after last night, she found herself with a new lover. A man who had no wife, yet was still, for all intents and purposes, married - married to the Fleet. It would be the perfect relationship for her. He'd be in space for months on end. She would rarely see him.

Was this why she was attracted to him?

A small voice inside her head whispered that he was planning to retire. Her pragmatic plans would be out the window if he chose to visit her on Caprica. Maybe this was why she had expended such energy on keeping the Commander at arm's length over the last few months.

She tried to look at last night from a practical point of view. They'd had sex, fantastic sex she corrected herself, but just sex nevertheless. They weren't in a relationship. They had merely met through their respective positions, been mutually attracted, and acted on it. She needed to stop making such a big deal out of sleeping with a man.

_Sleeping with a man – _those words had haunted her from the moment she'd opened her eyes. She had never actually physically _slept_ with a man for several years. She had with Bill Adama though. He had spooned into her back on the small bed, one arm draped over his head, the other over her body; the entire length of _his_ body pressed along her spine as she'd drifted off, lulled to sleep by the soft and steady sounds of his deep breathing.

Unsettlingly, from the moment they had walked into her bedroom, he had been intimate with her.

_"You still want a shower?"_

_"Yes, no... Maybe."_

_After her stuttering reply, he pierced her with his blue eyes for a long minute before turning to enter the bathroom. He twisted the taps and tested the water. "Come on," he urged, and then left her alone to undress in privacy._

_She stood under the shower head, second thoughts washing over her along with the heated stream of water._

_Finally, when she realised she could not procrastinate in the shower any longer, she shut off the water and stepped out onto the bathmat. Reaching blindly for a towel, one appeared as if by magic to wipe her eyes and face. _

_She focused, and found a near naked Bill Adama holding it. He wore only a set of tanks and boxers. Her eyes greedily drank in the sight of his taut arms before lowering and settling on his hands. She had found herself fantasising about his hands for far too long, and now they were a dark and strong reality holding the towel for her. _

_That towel then worked its way down her arms, then up again to gently pat her neck._

_"Turn around," he ordered. _

_She complied and felt the rough material of the towel scrape across her back. She couldn't hold back a whimper when it circled the swell of her buttocks. His breath floated across some loose tendrils of her hair and she expected him to soon give another command to turn again. Instead, he stayed standing behind her, reaching around to carefully start drying her breasts. He skimmed gently over her nipples, bringing them wantonly to attention._

_The towel, in his capable hands, crept lower and lower, swirling across her stomach and navel. His knee nudged her legs apart slightly, the material caressing the delicate skin of her thighs. _

_"Gods," she groaned as he finally brushed the towel across her mound. "I thought you said you didn't have seduction techniques, Commander."_

_"I'm making it up as I go along," he rumbled. _

_He then threw the towel carelessly aside and half dragged, half guided her, into the bedroom. He pushed her down onto the mattress and manoeuvred himself between her legs. _

_"This is where you get to just lie there and do nothing," he said._

_He lifted her thighs and hooked them over his shoulders. She whimpered again as she felt the first touch of his tongue between her legs; one long and slow lick. She bucked beneath him, panting with anticipation. _

_Parting her with his fingers, he buried his face in her. He sucked and flicked his tongue over her clit again and again until she was writhing, muttering incoherent words of mercy, yet begging for more. She gripped the sheets, her nails digging into the bedding._

_Finally, she cried out to the Gods and her body shuddered with an orgasm. _

She groaned, rolled over and buried her head into her pillow. He had gone down on her. The very first time and that was what he did? She could count with the fingers of one hand the times Richard had performed cunnilingus on her; and they had been engaged in an affair for three years.

It was such an intimate act. She really had no idea how she felt about it. And even more mystifying - she wanted to return the favour. The thought of guiding her mouth around Bill Adama's erection was erotically appealing.

She'd never gotten the chance last night though as he had instead found another home for it.

_As she came down from her high, he removed his tanks and boxers. Her eyes catalogued each small detail. Her hands ran down his arms before sweeping across his chest, enjoying the feel of his muscles. Every part of him was hard, masculine... _

_She pulled him down, willing him to crush her with his weight, only he held himself up with those strong arms as he entered her in one smooth movement._

_"You're so wet," he murmured in her ear._

_"What would you expect after…," her voice trailed away. She felt slightly awkward, and definitely still flushed, from his earlier ministrations._

_He started to rock and she forgot about her embarrassment, enjoying the sensations he was evoking in her again. Her hands continued to explore his body. She ran her nails down his back, squeezed his buttocks, fingered the tense muscles at the base of his neck._

_He moved faster, plunging into her harder and harder. His rasped out grunts of pleasure grew louder with each thrust until he growled some Tauron curse above her at the same moment that she felt another smaller orgasm ripple through her senses. _

_"Sorry," he mumbled. He rolled off her and she studied his face, marvelling at his now relaxed features. "I was too fast."_

_"No, Commander," she said. "I was just quieter."_

_"Commander? Do you think you could call me Bill now?" _

_Her breathing had almost returned to normal and she calmed even further when his hands reached out to stroke her skin._

His touch had lulled her to sleep. This morning was not the time to try and figure out why she had slept more soundly than she had in years.

She needed to get up, take a shower, and get dressed in her metaphoric armour - a business suit.

She looked across to the empty space beside her again. Despite her perception of his intimate nature, he had apparently not stayed with her all night. He must have left and returned to his bedroom.

She wondered if he'd left to save her any embarrassment if they were discovered together.

Housekeeping would know, however, given the unmistakable smell of sex on the sheets. For once, this reality did not fill her with dread.

_She got up in the night to use the bathroom. _

_"You okay?" he asked when she returned and automatically cuddled back into his warmth._

_She hummed a positive response, and then shivered when she felt his hardness digging into her back. Without saying another word she pushed her ass back into him invitingly. He fingered her opening and entered her immediately. She welcomed the feel of him inside her and, despite the fact he came after a mere three or four thrusts, she enjoyed it, and never felt saddened that she hadn't had time to catch up and find release as he had._

_"Sorry," he mumbled near her ear again before they both drifted back to sleep._

That had been around 3 a.m., she thought. She checked the digital clock above the bed. It was now nearly 7 a.m. Somewhere in those four hours, the Commander had slipped out without her even noticing.

Suddenly, her door clicked and the subject of her early morning musings walked in carrying a tray laden with a coffee pot and several plates of food. His hair was damp, evidence he had showered. He wore his uniform pants and tanks.

"Morning. I thought I'd better wake you. The Admiral and Doral are returning again at 900 hours and I thought you'd want to be showered and dressed before they arrive. I didn't know what you'd like for breakfast, so I got the mess to send me a selection of Danishes and muffins. And the coffee's hot and strong."

He put the tray down on the bedside table and smiled across at her.

She stared at him. All of her misgivings and confusion about sleeping with him and his not being in bed when she woke flew out the window. He was beautiful. He had made her feel beautiful. She needed to stop analysing everything for a moment and simply enjoy it.

"There was something we never did last night," she said, her voice automatically taking on a huskier tone than usual.

He chuckled. "Madam Secretary," he said, using her title as an endearment. "There are several things we never did last night. I'm an old man. You need to give me some time."

She smiled, then wriggled over to the side of the bed and rose to her knees so that their faces were aligned.

"Kiss me," she whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

The morning meeting regarding the conversion of Galactica to a museum went well and around lunch time everyone agreed that they had covered everything they needed.

Bill was surprised that, given their passion the night before, he and Laura had so easily managed to keep everything business-like and professional throughout.

Like most people who worked in the military for as long as he had, he'd woken early - at 0500. He'd carefully slipped out of her bed so as not to wake her, and returned to his own room for a shower.

While under the hot water, he'd wondered how she'd react when she woke up. He was upset with himself for not lasting longer and completely pleasing her. He'd not once, but twice, climaxed so fast that she had no chance of joining him. He'd found it impossible to leave her bed though, wanting to hold her and be with her for the night. He had no desire to treat her like some cheap hooker – frakking her and leaving her.

"If you're all packed, Madam Secretary," Admiral Lincoln said, interrupting his musings, "I'll escort you to the transport I've arranged to take you back to the Picon Transfer Station."

"Thank you, Admiral," she replied.

She stood and shook hands with Aaron Doral before turning to Bill. He rose from his chair, moved a step closer, and held out his hand politely.

She smiled and took it in hers. "Thank you too, Commander."

He stared at her mouth, remembering how he had kissed it over and over, barely an hour ago.

He wanted to kiss her again now.

He was exhilarated when she had asked him to kiss her. He had wanted to kiss her when she had helped him up from the floor and suggestively asked him which room he preferred. (Hell, if he was honest, he'd wanted to kiss her that day he saw her in the coffee shop of the library.) He'd held back last night, though. Somehow she exuded this emotional distance and he definitely hadn't wanted to scare her away. Kissing was such an intimate act.

And then, she'd invited him to do it...

She retrieved her bag and headed for the door, walking behind the Admiral.

She swivelled her head and gave him one last smile before leaving, making him insanely happy.

Once she was really gone, Bill sighed and sank back down into his chair.

He could try to convince himself he wasn't completely smitten by her, but he was.

He had been falling for her over the last few months. He found her wit, intelligence and grace completely intoxicating. He was fascinated by her looks. She was a beautiful woman. Now that they'd shared physical intimacy, he didn't see any way back.

He was completely and utterly in love.

The trick now was to make sure she didn't find out just yet. The last thing he wanted was for her to accuse him of smothering her. He needed to play it cool and not make an idiot of himself. He needed to continue to take things slowly – be content to be a small part of her life and eventually, hopefully, she might want him to become a larger part of it.

0.0.0

When Laura returned to Capirca, her work kept her completely occupied, leaving her with no time on her hands to reflect on what happened between her and Bill Adama. Issues that had been raised at the Quorum meeting needed to be investigated at least, if not resolved. Several interested parties wanted to meet with her personally to go over some finer points. Paperwork that had piled up during her absence needed attention. By the end of the week she felt like she'd been through the wringer and was in desperate need of a rest.

It was almost ten o'clock on Friday night when she finally entered her apartment and slumped into her couch, wondering how much longer she'd be willing to keep up the hectic pace. The constant going around in circles with budgets and media releases and meetings and such was slowly grinding down her enthusiasm for the one thing she should be concentrating on – students' education. She should be concerned with students' test results, not the results of polls.

She had promised Richard she would see things through to the very end, but she found herself doubting she could.

In approximately four months Richard would go into full campaign mode. If she was going to remain with him and be part of his team for another three years, she would need to make some decisions before then. It wasn't fair to him or the voters if she resigned after they were elected. _If _they were elected. There was always the possibility that she, and Richard, would lose.

She couldn't imagine the press would let her forget about the teachers' strike in the upcoming campaign. They and the opposition were sure to dredge up all the unsavoury footage of teachers walking the streets in the name of better pay and conditions.

Maybe Richard would be relieved to be rid of her before the election with all the bad publicity she could potentially generate.

She wished, for the first time in years, she had someone she could talk to. Sometimes she was truly exhausted, mentally and physically, shouldering her burdens by herself.

She glanced up at the photographs on her mantle piece and wondered how different her life would be if she still had her parents to turn to; her sisters to distract her.

She stared across at her telephone. It taunted her – wanting her to call the one person she knew would listen without prejudice. The last time she had brought up the subject of being disinterested with her career, he had not made any comment. Yet she knew, instinctively, that he would be a sympathetic ear if she wanted to pour out her concerns to him.

She rose from the couch. Her hand hovered over the phone for a full minute before she snatched it back and shoved it into her pocket. She strode to the bathroom to take a shower. What was she thinking? She was an independent woman who didn't need a man, no matter how appealing he might seem. She could make the decision on her own surely.

Years ago she made a vow to never let herself get too close to or rely on anyone ever again. She couldn't let one night of incredible sex shatter her resolve. Bill Adama was a lovely man. He was surprisingly intelligent, had a dry sense of humour that appealed to her, was loyal and patriotic, strong and generous and, she couldn't forget, sexy as all hell. However, leaning on him, depending on him... She couldn't allow herself to do it. She wasn't ready for the fall if he let her down. She wasn't ready for the crash if anything, Gods forbid, happened to him like…

She ripped off her clothes and turned on the taps of the shower. It was better this way. Bill Adama was a man she'd met through work. She'd frakked him. They'd both enjoyed it. She certainly wouldn't object if it happened again, but she couldn't let him become any more involved in her life than he already was.

0.0.0

"The latest forecasted Budget Report from the Treasury Department for the next fiscal year," Billy said, passing Laura a file.

She opened the folder and flipped through the pages, concentrating on the red marks that Billy had already made in the margins, denoting changes from the previous draft her office had received.

"You're kidding," she fumed. "They cut the funding for the Community Schools Program again!"

"Yes, Ma'am. Tauron, Sagittaron and Aerolon have been taken off the list."

"What? The three Colonies that need the most help?"

"They've kept the Gemenon funding in place. That project will still move forward."

"Oh, how convenient. The one Colony where the President is polling badly."

She threw the folder on her desk, rose from her chair and paced around her office. It was the one thing she had been determined to get done, and now, some nameless, faceless bean counters decided it wouldn't be a possibility.

"Maybe they'll add the other three Colonies back in during the next budget," Billy said.

"When pigs fly. I can't believe this. After all that additional research we added to our proposal. We pitched this scheme as being the most important thing education-wise this Government could ever do and they've swept a red line through it as if it was a stationery cut-back!"

"It was a worthwhile idea."

"Worthwhile! It's the only frakkin' worthwhile thing I've done in the last two years! The only frakkin' thing I was going to be proud of!"

Billy cleared his throat and she glanced at his slightly flushed features.

"Sorry, Billy."

"That's fine, Madam Secretary. Do you want me to call your car around?"

She frowned at him. "I have an appointment?"

"Yes, ma'am. With Doctor Patten. Your yearly physical. You're due at the medical centre at eleven. Did you forget?"

"Yes, I did. Okay. Call the car then. Thanks."

The truth was Billy had reminded her about the doctor's appointment only yesterday and she'd deliberately blocked it from her thoughts this morning.

She hated doctors; hated their waiting rooms; hated their surgeries; hated hospitals. If she never had to visit another doctor for the rest of her life, she'd be happy. Everything about them reminded her of her mother's struggle with cancer.

During her first year as Secretary of Education, she'd even taken the step of protesting about the necessity of a yearly physical. Unfortunately, no one else had joined her in her lone crusade. Apparently, if the President himself was obliged to have an examination, so was she.

Laura pulled on her jacket and stuffed the new Budget Report in her briefcase so that she could read over it again in the doctor's waiting room. Then again, she thought, maybe that wasn't a good idea. Her blood pressure would be through the roof.

She couldn't remember the last time she had got so angry at work. She rarely swore and never at the office. She tried to think if she ever had before - maybe during the strike? No, she hadn't even then.

She had been so passionate about the Community Schools Program. She and her staff had spent countless hours on its proposal in an effort to ensure that it was accepted. The advantages of improving education in these disadvantaged areas on the poorer Colonies were immeasurable.

She'd interviewed quite a few of the elders of these Colonies during her research into the project. She owed it to these people, she thought as she headed for the elevator, to get the Treasury Department to reverse their decision.

0.0.0

Bill Adama stood at attention on the hangar deck, waiting for the passengers of the Raptor to disembark.

He hated to admit it, but he was a bundle of nerves. He hadn't been in contact with Laura since their meeting a month ago. He had resisted his urge to call her a number of times. He'd stuck with his 'playing it cool' routine that he'd convinced himself was a good idea, offering her a little time and space. He wasn't sure how much more time and space he'd give her though, once they were alone in his quarters.

"Commander Adama, nice to see you."

He didn't return the sentiment and merely offered a small polite smile.

"Are we meeting in the Ward Room, sir?"

He nodded and Aaron Doral, the man who tested his diplomatic skills, moved across the hangar deck.

"The Secretary of Education?" Bill asked.

"Oh, she never sent you a message?" Doral turned back and replied. "That's odd. She can't attend this month's meeting. It's so inconvenient. I don't know how they expect me to do my job and that of a cabinet member's as well. Apparently, she's too busy. I'm not sure what could be making her so busy that she couldn't spare forty-eight hours."

"Too busy?"

"Yes. Her Aide, what's that young lad's name, Billy? He told me to tell you she had a previous engagement."

"I see."

Bill swung on his heel and headed to the Ward Room.

He had always known that convincing the Secretary of Education to love and trust him completely was going to be difficult. However, somewhere during the time she'd left the military base on Picon and now, Laura Roslin had decided not to give them any chance at all.

0.0.0

The doctor picked up the chart at the end of her bed and flicked through the nurses' notes.

"When can I go home?" Laura asked.

"Mmm. Your drip came out this morning. Have you passed urine today?"

"Yes."

He lifted and checked her dressings.

"You seem to be healing nicely," he said before studying the chart again.

"You haven't eaten very much. How about having a sandwich for lunch and something a bit heavier for dinner and we'll see how you are in the morning."

"That will mean another night here."

"This is the most expensive private hospital in Caprica City, Madam Secretary, I'm sure you'll be comfortable." The doctor replaced the chart and walked out.

She hated doctors; hated hospitals. She glanced over at the time. Aaron Doral would be on Galactica by now. Bill would know she wasn't able to visit because she was in hospital. The telephone sat just within her reach. Surely the Commander would call her soon.


	9. Chapter 9

"No lifting. The only exercise allowed is walking. No jogging, no gym, no Pilates, no swimming in chlorinated pools. You're not to drive a car. Don't do anything that requires you to stretch your arm up over your head."

"I can type and write though?"

"You thinking of going back to work? No, Madam Secretary, I'm not giving you a work clearance."

She made no attempt to hide her impatience with the young doctor who was apparently a specialist but barely looked old enough to shave, let alone completed the necessary studies to be in such a professional position.

"I'm not a bricklayer, doctor. I sit at a desk. I'm sure I won't strain anything."

"No, Madam Secretary. I'll make another appointment for you this time next week and we'll check how you're healing. Until then, go home, put your feet up, and relax."

"I can't afford to be away from my position for another week."

"That's not my issue, Madam Secretary," he said. His arrogant tone and superior attitude belied his wholesome youthful looks. "My job is to get you completely well again. I'm sure the Colonial education system will survive for a few more days."

She held her tongue. She realised if she protested too much, he might change his mind about releasing her from the hospital at all.

"Oh, and no sexual activities," he added.

"Excuse me?" She arched one eyebrow at the baby-faced specialist.

He met her gaze. "Sex, Madam Secretary. Don't have any."

"Ever?" she asked.

He ignored her sarcasm. "Eleven o'clock next Tuesday. We'll discuss returning to work and normal activities then."

0.0.0

"Is it just me or has the last 48 hours been the worst of your life too?"

Bill laughed and poured himself a generous amount of whiskey. "It was a relief to see the shuttle hatch closed and it set off back to Caprica, that's for sure."

Saul ran a weary hand around his chin, rubbing at the stubble. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd rather deal with that frakkin' woman than that arrogant little upstart any day. At least I can amuse myself by checking out her legs during the meetings."

"You check out the Secretary of Education's legs?" Bill asked nonchalantly.

"Don't you? Godsdamn it, Bill, we may be retiring next month but we still have a pulse last time I checked!"

He chuckled again and flopped into his couch. "Wonder why she didn't attend this time?" he mused out loud.

"Probably busy. Apparently Adar's about to call an election. She'll be busy over the next few months with all the hype involved with that."

Bill swirled the amber liquid around in his glass. She was a career woman, this was obvious. He would never begrudge her that or her ambition. She had admitted to being restless and despondent in her position of late, but that could be a temporary thing. He didn't need to read the polls to know she was good at her job. All their dealings had been evidence enough.

He needed to telephone her. He should have called her and asked why she was a no show. He'd let his pride get in his way. He had told himself he was in love with her. People in love didn't allow stupid suspicions to become misunderstandings and misunderstandings to become riffs.

He would have to come to terms with her choosing her position and her career over him. She wasn't the type of woman to stay at home, bake cookies and let a man take care of her. No matter how tempting it was to assert his caveman instinct, she was a woman who had her own life and he would need to fit into it, not make her fit into his.

"One more month to go," Saul murmured.

The last few months had flashed past. So much had happened –being told Galactica was being decommissioned and him along with it, Lee leaving the Fleet, meeting and falling for Laura Roslin.

"I called Ellen," Saul added.

"Yeah? That's good." He must be feeling sentimental if he thought Saul and Ellen working things out sounded like a good idea.

"She's agreed to take a small holiday on Virgon with me after the ceremony. Just the two of us."

"You're going to decide what to do together?"

Or Ellen would decide what they would do and Saul would have to agree or else, Bill thought. Of course, to be charitable, it had been Saul's idea to follow him back into the Fleet a few years ago. To be less gracious, Ellen had certainly made Saul pay for it ever since. She tortured him with her infidelity.

"I just might decide to do nothing. I'm sure we can live on our pension for more years than we can live."

Saul was right. He didn't need to seek a new job because of money. He was a Commander in the Fleet. His pension would be more than generous. Everyone expected him just to retire and live quietly on Caprica, or perhaps Picon or Tauron.

But he didn't want to retire yet. That was the problem. He still felt like he had something to contribute. He just wasn't sure what it was.

"Anyway, I'm beat, Old Man," Saul said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Bill sat in the couch for another few minutes after Saul had left. He checked the converted time of Caprica on the chronometer on the wall. It was 2200 hours, but almost midnight there - too late to politely call anyone. He'd have to wait until the morning.

0.0.0

Laura was just sipping on her first coffee of the morning when her telephone rang. She had insisted Billy keep her up to date with the happenings in the office. Surely the doctor wouldn't find a problem with her answering the phone.

"Roslin," she spoke in her usual professional manner.

"Laura. I thought I'd ring to check on things."

"Mr President?" She was a taken aback. She shouldn't have been. It was obvious that Richard would call to check on what was going on when one of his cabinet members was away from the office for over a week. "My staff is handling everything in the office with an efficiency that would make you proud," she said defensively.

"I know. I've talked to your Aide. I was actually meaning you. How are _you_ feeling, Laura?"

She placed her coffee cup onto the kitchen counter and shuffled into one of the stools. Did he have an angle? Were his next words going to be that she should think about retiring before the election? Maybe he would now suggest she could easily cite health reasons?

"I'm sure I can adequately carry out my duties without you worrying, Mr President," she said, her tone cool.

Richard sighed loudly into the phone. "Laura, I don't care about the position or your duties. I was asking about _you_. Is your heart so made of stone that you didn't think I'd at least be a little worried about you?"

"I'm fine," she murmured. "The prognosis from the Specialist is very optimistic."

"Good."

She chewed on her bottom lip. An uncomfortable silence echoed across the line. She'd had a relationship with this man for so long, but now she felt nothing for him. His words made her feel guilty for her suspicions that he only cared about her because of her job, but that was all. She felt no regret that their affair was finished or that their friendship was over. If one could even call what they had a friendship.

Finally, Richard steered the conversation back to business. "What do you think of the date for the election? Do you think we'll be ready in time?"

"Yes. You will. But I won't. I'm not running again, Richard."

The words were out of her mouth before she knew it. While ideas of resigning from her position had been swirling around in her mind for a long time, she hadn't made a final decision about anything until now. It was the right decision.

"What are you talking about?"

She was surprised to hear shock in Richard's voice. "I think this is the best time, Mr President." Surely, he would agree with her that this was a good idea. She'd fully expected him to be utterly relieved to be rid of her.

"Best time for whom? Laura, we need you. You're one of our strongest candidates! You are probably just feeling a little shaken from the ordeal of the last couple of weeks. Don't make any rash decisions."

"It's something I've been thinking about for a long time, Richard." She broke her golden rule and called him by his given name, instead of his title.

"Surely, I can convince you to change your mind."

"You must know I wasn't happy about the Community School's Program."

"Laura, we honestly don't have the funds for that in this budget. What if I promise to include it in the next budget if you agree to stay on for another term?"

"What if you just promise to include it anyway because it's the right thing to do, rather than using it as a bargaining chip?"

His voice hardened. "I won't be above using it as a sweetener to keep you with me in the next election. There's also the Vice-Presidency."

"What?" Had she just heard him correctly? Had Richard Adar just offered her the position of Vice-President?

"Laura, you and I both know that you are completely wasted in a position so far down the order of succession. It's no secret that I'm unhappy with the current Vice-President. Now, as I said, don't make any rash decisions. We probably have another three weeks before we need to name our candidates. I fully expect yours to be on that ballot."

Ten minutes passed before Laura placed the beeping handset back into the cradle and moved to pour herself another coffee.

She came back to the same stool and picked up the telephone again to dial a number she should have over a week ago. She had been acting like a teenager, waiting for a boy to ring her first, and it was ridiculous. She wanted to talk to Bill Adama. She wasn't sure if she wanted to confide in him about any of her personal or professional concerns, but she wanted to hear his voice. It would soothe her better than any painkiller available in the Twelve Colonies.

A Communication's Officer on Galactica finally picked up the line. Disappointingly, it was only to inform her that the Commander was unavailable.

She thanked the girl, hung the phone up, and moved to pace in the living room.

Was sacrificing another four years of her life worth it to save the Community Schools Program? She had never felt so passionate about any of her other education projects, and Richard knew it. If she became Vice-President, she could ensure there was no way the program's funding could be denied. Was she willing to basically whore herself for the greater good?

She startled when the door bell chimed.

If she had thought she was surprised that Richard had called to check on her earlier, she was completed shocked to see the man standing outside her door, holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Commander... What are you doing here?"

"Visiting you."

She giggled and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. "Shouldn't you be in space?"

"I have about two years leave coming. They can certainly grant me a few days." His eyes wandered over her robe, making her intimately aware of her nakedness beneath. He then glanced behind her and frowned at the folders and paperwork strewn across the coffee table in her living room. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Bed?" Her voice was almost a breathless whisper.

"Yes. Resting. Not out here working."

"I haven't been up long. I was only making phone calls while I had coffee." She didn't know why she was explaining anything to him.

"Have you eaten?"

"No, not yet."

"Have you got anything in your kitchen, or would you like me to go and get something? Is there a bakery close?"

"I've got some groceries, but something from the bakery sounds much more appealing. There's one on the corner. Two blocks. If you go toward the water."

He smiled and handed her the flowers. "You put these in a vase, make your calls, clean up your paperwork, and I'll be back in ten minutes. Any special requests?"

She took a deep breath of the flowers. "Surprise me."

He bent down and their lips met for a kiss. She automatically opened her mouth and their tongues tangled hungrily. His hands swept beneath her robe, swirling up and down her sides before resting on her hips. He eventually came up for air, chuckled and rested his forehead on hers.

"Hi," he murmured.

"Hi," she answered quietly.

His lips feathered kisses across her hairline, before he pulled back. "Bakery," he said.

"Bakery," she agreed firmly as her stomach grumbled in hunger.

He smiled again. "Ten minutes," he promised, then was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

Laura had just put the flowers into a vase when her telephone trilled to life again. This time it was Billy, and they spent the next half hour going over some concerns from the office.

She was jotting down dates of rescheduled meetings and appointments when the doorbell chimed announcing Bill's return.

She opened the door and stood aside to allow him to enter, while she continued talking to Billy. She was surprised, yet secretly delighted, when he lightly brushed his mouth across her cheek as he walked past her to the kitchen where he poured himself a coffee.

He leaned on the edge of her counter, watching her as she continued to talk. She glanced up at him every now and then, giving him small apologetic smiles. He never made any motion to hurry her along. Instead, he simply stood patiently, sipping at his drink, seemingly right at home in her kitchen.

Finally, she hung up the phone.

"Sorry," she said with a smile.

"Get everything sorted out?"

"Hopefully." She sniffed the air appreciatively, her stomach growling. "Your breakfast mission was a success, Commander?"

"Ready whenever you are, Madam Secretary."

She laughed and retrieved two plates for the pastries he had purchased, before leading him to the breakfast nook.

"I could get used to this," she told him.

"What's that?"

"You bringing me breakfast."

"Mmm." He leaned over and tucked a lock of her hair behind one ear. Her breath hitched slightly. "You're spoiled," he said, teasing her.

She didn't answer, and continued eating. His words made her realise that even before she had made questionable choices for lovers, she couldn't remember a single man other than her father who had spoiled her. When she was younger, no doubt a few of her boyfriends had loved her, but none of them had been the indulgent type. Maybe if she had stayed with them longer or met them when they were more mature, things might have been different.

The thought of Bill Adama spoiling her was an appealing one.

"What are you thinking?"

She didn't answer and instead changed the subject with a question of her own. "How'd you know where to find me?"

"I rang your office. Billy informed me you were in the hospital. Took me a couple of days to sort out Galactica and get here. When I found out you'd been released from the hospital, I dropped by your office."

"And they just casually gave you my home address?" she laughed. "I'm sorry, but I can't imagine Billy giving out that sort of personal information."

"Mmm," he responded noncommittally, obviously not willing to reveal his sources.

She met his eyes above her coffee cup. "You're lucky you won me over with the flowers and the food. I can hardly throw you out now."

"You can if you want to be alone. I'll understand."

She looked over at him. He was completely serious.

She frowned. "Aaron Doral never told you I was in the hospital when he arrived on Galactica for our meeting?"

"No. He just said you were too busy."

So much for waiting for Bill to ring her while she was in the hospital, she thought. What had he thought when she had not met him on the Galactica after their liaison on Picon? Had he thought she was sending him a clear message that she didn't want to get further involved? _Did_ she want to get involved?

"What did you tell the Admiralty? I mean, why did you say you wanted the leave for?" she asked.

"I took Emergency Leave. You get three days a year – no questions asked."

"So, I have you for three days? Or were you planning on visiting your son?"

"I might give him a call. Maybe drop by for a bit if he's still in town. But, I would love to be yours for the three days. Run any errands you want. Hunt and gather food. Pick flowers. Anything. You could be my Commander-in-Chief for the next few days. Hopefully my services could lend themselves to your speedy recovery."

"I'd like that," she whispered. This was true. Getting further involved or not, the idea of his company over the next few days filled her with joyous expectation. It was a feeling she definitely wasn't accustomed to when it came to men.

He checked his watch. "I'd better go and make sure I can get a vacancy in a nearby motel before it's too late in the day. I noticed a couple on the highway before your turn off. Any recommendations?"

She stared at him. "I don't want you to stay in a motel," she said before she lost the courage.

He raised his eyes to contemplate hers for a long time, before removing his glasses, looking down and pinching the end of his nose.

"I don't want to push you," he said. "I've arrived out of the blue - unannounced. Forcing myself and my company upon you. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with me staying here."

"There's one thing I've noticed, Commander." She paused and he gave her a hesitant enquiring look before she continued. "I have never felt uncomfortable in your presence. Angry, yes. Aroused, yes. But never uncomfortable. I like that about you," she said truthfully.

"It's a good thing," he rumbled quietly.

"It is," she agreed. "For example, I haven't showered yet today. I'm wearing this old ragged white robe without a scrap of makeup. And yet, I don't feel the need to jump up and hide my wrinkles or slip into some silk lingerie to impress you."

He leaned over and she found herself on the end of yet another of his sweet gentle kisses.

She was having trouble coping with the way he kept kissing her. It was so evocatively intimate, yet, he somehow made it seem casual.

Kissing during sex was one thing, but this absent-minded touching was something else altogether. He had gone to great lengths to visit her. Surely sex wasn't all he wanted. Was it?

"I love your wrinkles. They are proof that you've lived, loved and laughed. I won't say no to the lingerie, but I must admit I am finding this robe distractingly exciting."

"This thing?" she said in an unsteady voice.

"Yes, when you move gaps form and I catch small glimpses of your…"

She snorted and pulled the robe around her tighter. "I didn't realise."

He stood and helped her down from the stool.

"And it seems that you've come up with my first chore for the day."

"What's that?"

"You need a shower. Come on, I'll help you. Can you get it wet?"

"Yes. The doctor actually said irrigating it will be beneficial. He just said to make sure the water wasn't scalding hot or the pressure too hard."

"Nothing hot or hard then?"

"No," she sighed dramatically.

He chuckled and placed his hand beneath her arm to gently guide her as they made their way to the bathroom. At the entrance, she paused and turned back to him. "You'll stay? No motels?"

"If you're sure that's what you want."

Boldly she leaned in and kissed him slowly, softly. "Yes." She breathed the word into his mouth. "It's what I want."

His tongue tasted her bottom lip and flicked against hers enticingly. "Then I'll stay," he murmured.

0.0.0

Bill turned from getting the water the right temperature to find Laura had already removed her robe and was standing beside the shower naked. He couldn't resist - his eyes lingered over her beautiful pale curves. One day, he promised himself, when she was completely well, he would spend a few hours tracing his mouth and hands from one freckle to the next.

She was a lot frailer than she had let on earlier and leaned on him heavily as he helped her into the cubicle. She sighed and tilted her head back under the stream of water. He reached up to retrieve the shampoo bottle from the shelf above her head, squeezed a small amount into his palm, rubbed the slippery liquid into a slight lather and plunged his hands into her hair, massaging her scalp with his fingers.

She hummed with pleasure. After he had scrubbed her hair, he pushed her gently back into the flow of the water to rinse, then found a facecloth and wiped her eyes.

"You'll get your sleeves wet," she said. "Wouldn't it be easier if you just got in here with me?"

He arched an eyebrow.

"There's plenty of room."

He chuckled. She was such a flirt. He'd had a distinct lack of laughter in his life for far too long and it was quite a novelty to meet someone who could make him laugh.

"If you don't hurry up, we're going to run out of hot water. I know the Doctor said nothing too hot, but I don't think he meant completely cold."

He chuckled again and, as unabashedly as she had, stripped out of his clothes. She immediately snuggled back into his body when he joined her under the water. He picked up the soap and lathered it across the front of her body softly, eliciting a small hum of appreciation from her. He rubbed the washcloth and soap around each part of her that he could comfortably reach, and then he stood apart from her slightly to concentrate on her back.

He was stroking against her tailbone when he felt her shiver. He gently turned her around and his eyes automatically lingered on her breasts. He immediately noticed her nipples were sharp and pointed. He ignored the reaction in his groin and redirected his line of sight to her eyes, especially when she gave another shiver.

He twisted off the water, dried them both, hooked a towel around his waist and pulled the robe around her.

"Do you want to dry your hair?"

"No. It's okay."

"I think you should. You're shivering."

She pointed to the cabinet under the sink. He found a hair dryer but she shook her head when he went to plug it in.

"No. I need to sit down. There's an outlet near the bed. If it's all right, I'll sit on the edge of the bed and do it."

He stood next to her at the bedside, holding the dryer while she fluffed at her hair with her fingers.

As soon as it was dry, she lay down on the bed, pulled the covers over herself and closed her eyes. He reached down and pushed some stray locks back from her forehead.

"Do you want me to brush it? It won't get too tangled?"

"No," she murmured, not opening her eyes but her mouth curled into a smile. "That's okay."

His fingers traced along the wrinkles she had light-heartedly worried about earlier.

"I'm still cold." She opened her eyes and gave him a look so vulnerable that he nearly confessed his love for her right then and there. "Would you hold me for a while? To warm me up?"

"Give me a minute." He stood and moved back out to her kitchen, removed the phone from its hook, and returned to the bedroom.

He draped his towel over a chair that sat in the corner of the room, and crawled under the covers beside her. Their bodies moulded together as perfectly as they had the last time they had shared a bed.

He dropped another small kiss on her shoulder before closing his eyes and letting himself relax.

Sleep took them both.


	11. Chapter 11

Laura opened up the monitor of her laptop computer.

The doctor had given her a clearance today. She could start back at work in the morning.

She had just pulled up a blank document when her telephone rang.

"Roslin," she answered.

"Hi," said a now familiar husky voice.

She settled back into her chair more comfortably. "Hi," she said.

"How'd it go?"

"All clear. He wants to see me again next month for another scan, but it looks like I got off lightly."

"I don't call that chunk of flesh he removed from you as getting off lightly. You been eating breakfast since I left?"

She giggled. No doubt him bringing her breakfast would become a long-running joke between them just as him falling over her shoes had.

"Yes, sir," she said in a mock serious tone. "How are you, Bill? It's only three weeks until the decommissioning." She was concerned about how he was going to cope with his looming retirement.

"We weren't talking about me. That means it's also only three weeks until I see you again. Did the doctor give you the green light on _all_ normal activities?"

"Yes, he did, sir. You should have seen his face, Bill. He obviously doesn't think women my age have sex."

"Little did he know you'd just spent three days fighting me off."

She smiled. She hadn't had to fight him off at all. Bill Adama had behaved like a complete gentleman the entire time he had stayed with her.

Regardless of the doctor's warning, as much as she'd wished otherwise, she hadn't felt physically capable of engaging in sexual activities during Bill's impromptu visit. She did have the fleeting idea of performing oral sex on him, but dismissed it almost immediately. She wanted their sex to be about mutual pleasure. Bill wasn't a teenager who couldn't control himself for a few days. Besides, in her heart she knew that they would have ample opportunities to explore their sexual relationship further in the future.

They had still slept together each night, thoroughly enjoying the feel of each other's body. It was intimate yet chaste. She knew, without a doubt, he still wanted her. His lingering glances and gentle touches had been telling.

"Don't overdo it in the office," he said. "I know you're about to go into full campaign mode, but take it easy, okay?"

"I didn't realise I'd enlisted and you'd become my Commanding Officer," she said, keeping her tone light so that he would know she was joking. She probably didn't need to. He understood her sense of humour. He could tell if he'd insulted her or if she was angry with him. Sometimes his knowledge of her mood and temper was unsettling, other times it gave her a heady thrill.

"I think, Ms Roslin, if you were a member of my crew, you would end up in the brig for insubordination."

"Really, Commander? I wonder if I could convince my superior officer to change his mind about any charges. Or if there might be one or two things I could do to negotiate a release."

"Laura," he growled, "I'm an old man. You're going to give me a heart attack."

She snorted. "Not over the phone. In three weeks time when I'm fully recovered and in the same room with you, maybe, yes."

She smiled like an idiot when she heard his rich chuckle over the line.

"I look forward to it, Madam Secretary."

"I do too, Commander."

"Better go. Let you get some sleep before your first day back."

"Yes."

"Goodnight, Laura."

"Goodnight, Bill." Slowly she hung up the phone.

She thought about the three days they had spent together. He had fulfilled his promise and looked after her. He had prepared all their meals, insisting that he always enjoyed cooking while on shore leave, something that he never had a chance to do on a battlestar. He had also fully stocked her pantry and refrigerator before he left.

On the second day, he had taken her down to the harbour for some fresh air. They'd strolled along the concrete path that followed the shore, his hand holding her elbow, or occasionally pressed against the small of her back, in a protective manner. When she had tired, they sat side by side on a bench, and simply enjoyed the view. He appeared at home near the water and she had been content to just sit and listen to the sound of his voice as he pointed out the various species of seabirds and explained their habits. He seemed to know them all, from the gulls swooping for fish, to the sandpipers burying their heads in the sand to catch crabs.

On the third day of his visit, he had left her alone for a few hours to call on his son. His mood was sombre when he'd returned, but he hadn't confided in her and she hadn't probed. She knew he would tell her about it in his own time, if he wanted to. She had too many personal secrets of her own to hold silence against him.

Over the course of three days, they had chatted about a variety of topics, including those that were usually taboo - politics and religion. Despite the fact that their views on both subjects were opposing, they still managed to respect each other's opinion. They didn't argue, they debated. Neither of them won and they laughed afterwards.

He had read to her from a murder mystery novel he had picked up at a small neighbourhood bookstore. His gravelly voice made each character come to life in new ways.

The first night she sat beside him on her sofa. He wove magic with his narration. On the second night, she lay with her head in his lap, his hand absent-mindedly stroking her hair. On the third night, they had taken the book into the bed with them. She moulded into his side as he read to her by the light of the bedside lamp.

Over the course of his visit, she had become relaxed enough to call him 'Bill' instead of her usual 'Commander'. He hadn't commented when she did the first time, but the look he gave her had been proof enough that he hadn't missed this new advancement in their relationship.

The curser blinking on the screen distracted her from her reverie. She started to compose her letter. It was a resignation letter, addressed to the President, citing a date one month away as her last working day.

She printed it out and turned off her computer.

Now, all she had to do was decide whether or not she would courier it over to Richard in the morning.

0.0.0

"Commander," Aaron Doral said, giving Bill his usual limp-wristed handshake. "I just thought I'd give you the order of the proceedings today. The Priestess Elosha will be the first official I introduce. She will bless the outgoing crew of Galactica. Then I will introduce the Vice President, who will give her speech. Then it will be time for your speech, followed immediately by the flyover display of Galactica's antique Vipers. Lastly, Elosha will give another blessing. This time for the safety of the ship and the children who will visit it, and thus Galactica will officially be heralded in as a Museum."

"Antique? I'm not sure I'd describe the Mark II Vipers as antiques," Bill grumbled.

"After this official ceremony, you and your XO will be required to attend a dinner with selected dignitaries at your table."

"Who?"

"Your Executive Officer, Colonel Tigh."

"No, Mr Doral, I'm quite aware of who my XO is. Who are the dignitaries attending this dinner?"

"Myself, of course."

"Of course," Bill said. His sarcasm, as usual, went straight over Doral's head.

"The Vice President, the Priestess, a Quorum representative from Tauron and the Curator of the Delphi Museum."

"I see. Thank you, Mr Doral, I'll see you on the hangar deck."

After Doral left, Bill picked up his speech and read it through. The words were politically correct, but somehow sounded trite. Maybe he could tweak it here and there. He checked the time. One hour until the ceremony began. Not a lot of time to start thinking about changing his speech.

He pressed a button on his telephone.

"Yes sir?" Dee's voice answered.

"Dee, are all the civilians attending the Decommissioning Ceremony on board?"

"Yes sir."

"Could you please check if the name Lee Adama is listed?"

The line was silent for a moment while Dee checked her records.

"No, sir. There's no Lee Adama on my list of civilians."

"I see. And you're sure there aren't any others attending that haven't checked in yet?"

"Yes, sir, I'm sure. All the civilians have been processed and passed through Security."

"Thank you, Dee."

0.0.0

Bill began reading his prepared speech, then paused to look around the hangar deck. He didn't see many familiar faces. All these years and this is what he had to show for it? None of his family in attendance, other than Saul. Kara sat in the brig. Lee had ignored his invite. Carolanne was never interested in his life in the Fleet, despite her family's involvement in it long before he came onto the scene.

He looked down at the words on the sheet of paper propped up on the lectern. They weren't right. They weren't what he needed to say. He looked up at the see of faces in front of him and started his speech again - this one altogether different from his original. This one flowed from his heart and, he hoped, would salve some of his guilt.

He could see the Vice President out of the corner of his eye. She sat next to the Priestess Elosha and Doral. She had a fixed smile on her face, just like everyone else in the audience. The content of his speech was obviously shocking them. But he wasn't saying it for them. He was saying it for himself; for Lee; for Zak.

When he finished, he returned to his seat on the side of the podium. The audience remained silent. Then he heard one person clapping loudly. He looked up, but was unable to locate his lone fan. He could only tell they were sitting towards the back of the hangar deck, and then he had no chance of locating them, as the rest of the audience politely joined in with the applause.

0.0.0

The dinner party was on the Observation Deck. Bill arrived, and headed straight for the main table where he was required to make small talk with the VIPs. It would be his last official duty as an officer in the Colonial Fleet and he would soldier on through the tedium of the evening.

He was ushered to his chair by one of his Petty Officers from the galley. The Vice President was seated next to him and he gave her a polite smile.

"Interesting speech," she murmured.

"Thank you, Madam Vice President. I'll take that as a compliment."

She laughed softly.

"I expect you'll be giving quite a few speeches over the coming weeks," he said.

"Yes. I'm not fond of election campaigns, Commander. And, of course, winning isn't any guarantee to keeping the Vice-Presidency. It's quite common for Cabinets to be reshuffled in the first few weeks when a government is re-elected."

"You feel the knives in your back already, Madam Vice President?"

"Very much so, Commander."

Bill looked around at the seating arrangements. The seat the other side of him was still vacant. Saul was sitting in between Doral and Elosha. He smiled. He was sure Saul would enjoy the evening. He just hoped his XO never got the urge to drown his boredom with too much alcohol.

He tilted his head to catch one of the wait staff's eyes to order a drink, but was distracted by the woman approaching his table. His breath literally caught in his throat at her beauty.

"Commander," she greeted, her voice husky and so sexy that his groin immediately jumped to life at the sound of it.

"Madam Secretary? I never realised you were attending tonight."

She sat down beside him.

"Laura?" the Vice President said. "I thought the President ordered you not to attend the ceremony today. You know he felt it would be viewed as a waste of taxpayer funds for the soon to be ex-Secretary of Education to attend this ceremony. Especially during such a delicate stage of the campaign."

"Yes. Thank you for taking my place at the ceremony, Madam Vice President," Laura replied. "I paid for my own flight. My only official capacity here tonight is as Commander Adama's date." Laura leaned close to Bill. "I certainly hope it isn't presumptuous of me to say I'm your date, Commander," she whispered in his ear.

"Not at all, Madam Secretary. That sounds wonderful."


	12. Chapter 12

Bill Adama was grinning like a schoolboy. Laura Roslin was on his Battlestar. Laura Roslin was in his quarters. Laura Roslin was on his couch. Laura Roslin was making love with him.

She reached down and ran her fingers across his face, tracing his smile. He kissed her finger tips, and she hummed contently, raising herself slightly before gently lowering back down.

Everything was in slow motion. He concentrated on keeping it that way. This time, he was determined not to rush things.

She thrust against him harder. Instinctively, he pushed up into her. He wanted to fill her completely; feel her completely.

Her eyes shut, her button lip held tightly between her teeth, she whimpered, leaned her head back, and continued to rock lethargically on top of him. He could feel her muscles contracting around his erection with each movement and he let his eyes drift shut, enjoying the heady sensations she was eliciting.

"Commander." Her groan of his title made him harder and more aware of her every touch.

His excitement almost peaked when she started to increase her rhythm – her gentle strokes developed to grinding against him. She moved her upper body and he realised she was positioning herself so that she could drag her clit along and over where they were joined. He reached out and used his thumb to also stimulate friction against it, still leaving her in complete control of their thrusts. He would merely endeavour to keep up his end of the bargain – literally keep it up.

Her breasts swayed and he reached up with his spare hand to cup them in turn, gently tweaking their hardened nubs.

He tried to ignore the familiar rush of an approaching orgasm by closing his eyes again, blocking out the visual stimulation of her all-too-erotic image above him.

Suddenly, her fast and frenzied thrusts ceased, her thighs shuddered and she moaned softly. He thrust up into her hard, let himself relax, and quickly cried out with the pleasure of his own orgasm.

After he caught his breath, he opened his eyes and was momentarily struck dumb by her beauty.

"I was just wondering Commander, why are we on your couch and not in the bed."

"Rack. They're called racks, not beds."

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a teasing look. "Is it a single rack? Do you call them that? Do you have double, queen and king size?"

He chuckled. "It would fit us both with you in this position."

"Mmm. You might not find it comfortable for the whole night."

"I don't know. It could certainly work for me for quite a while. I had this fantasy."

"Fantasy? Commander? This is only our second, um, liaison," she laughed at her own choice of words, "and already you're confiding your fantasies to me?"

"It was pretty tame, but it involved you, me, and this couch."

"You didn't have fantasies about me in your rack?" She ran her hands across his chest.

"I pretty much had fantasies about you everywhere. The rack, this couch, the head, the desk, the floor."

She tipped her head back and laughed. "I'm afraid, Commander, I'm cramping up enough as it is. Any other gymnastics will have to wait for another day." She lifted her legs and squeezed between him and the back of the couch.

"But you said you'd give me a heart attack. I'm keeping up with you so far, Madam Secretary."

She snorted, and then leaned over to kiss him. "Please don't have a heart attack," she whispered.

"I don't plan on it."

"I don't think anyone plans on what life throws at us sometimes."

He watched as the light in her eyes immediately disappeared as if a switch had been flicked in her mind. He suspected his casual teasing might have dredged up memories of her family.

He had noticed there were various photographs of an older couple and two young women scattered around her apartment. There was no doubt they were her parents and sisters. Combining the sadness that he so often saw in her eyes and the fact that she had not contacted them or vice-versa when she was ill, he also reasoned they were deceased.

"You can't hide away and stop living just because something might happen. Just because you might get hurt. When I was 18, I enlisted in the Fleet to fight in the First Cylon War. I fell in love. First love – always seems more important. We went out to the front line. Everything was surreal. It wasn't some war that you heard about on the news anymore. We were the war. I don't know how to describe it. The thing I remember most is how fast everything happened. I ran on adrenaline. I never had time to think about what I was doing, instinct and reflexes took over. Those red eyed bastards seemed to take forever to kill.

"I came back to Galactica. I served here during the war. Everyone was jubilant. The war was over. I couldn't celebrate. Those Vipers that had blown into a million pieces before my eyes weren't empty. My friends had been inside. No hope... Jaycie, the girl I had fallen for, was dead"

He felt Laura stroking his arm. He looked back over to her.

"The point I'm trying to make is that I wouldn't have changed anything. I was devastated. But, at least I'd experienced love. I had that short time with her and that made it all worth it. You can't hide away from love, Laura, on the off-chance that it might be snatched away from you."

"Who said I'm hiding away from love?"

"You aren't?" His question was laced with sarcasm. "Ellison, that kid you frakked? The President?"

He knew he'd gone too far. Her look said it all. She struggled up and off the couch.

"Don't presume that you know me just because _we've_ frakked a few times, Commander."

"I know you, Laura. I can read you."

"Well, you should be able to read me now," she said, throwing her clothes back on with jerky agitated movements.

"Of course I can. You're planning on running out of here because it's all getting too difficult for you. My accusations will just be your convenient excuse."

"Your accusations are all the excuse I need." She stepped into her shoes. "Don't get up, Commander, I'll find my own way to the guest quarters."

0.0.0

Laura had showered and was sitting on the edge of her guest quarter's rack when someone tapped on her hatch.

She stood and opened it, knowing it could only be Bill.

He walked in and looked around the room briefly before picking up her overnight bag from the floor. Neither of them said a word as he busied himself by repacking her bag with her toiletries from the bathroom and her clothes that lay draped over one of the chairs. He took her by the arm and led her to the hatch. His eyes swept the room one last time, checking for any forgotten items.

If any of his crew thought it odd that their outgoing Commander and the Secretary of Education, wearing silk blue pyjamas, were walking through the halls of Galactica together, they never showed it on their faces.

Once in his quarters, he immediately led her to his rack. He peeled the pyjamas from her body and settled her onto his mattress, before undressing and joining her.

They held each other tightly for a while before he finally broke the silence.

"I love you, Laura," he said.

She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. "I know," she replied.

0.0.0

As soon as she entered her apartment, Laura kicked off her shoes and headed for the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. She'd spent almost the entire day on the telephone pleading for donations, and she was exhausted.

She noticed the red light of her answering machine was flickering. She clicked on it to retrieve the message.

_"Laura. Bill. I'm leaving for Virgon today. Visiting Saul and his wife, Ellen. I'll probably be there for a couple of weeks. I hope you're well." _

He hadn't hung up. She could still hear his steady breathing. She snorted a little. William Adama was a 'heavy breather'.

He had left her two other messages, but she hadn't returned them. She literally had put him on the backburner while she sorted out her professional life.

She should put him out of his misery. She should pick up the phone and tell him that he was the most polite stalker in the Twelve Colonies and that she missed him.

_"Goodbye, Laura."_

She jumped at the sound of the telephone disconnecting. What did 'goodbye' mean? Goodbye forever? Goodbye until he got back from Virgon?

Laura swore softly. She couldn't believe how many times she acted like a teenager with Bill Adama. A few weeks of not talking to him and that was it? He was deciding they were over? Surely he wasn't that immature.

Since returning from Galactica, there had been no time to brood about their argument or his confession of love. She'd been too busy ensuring all her business in the office was up to date and that she handed over the position to her incumbent with a clean slate.

And she had to attend a press conference, and several dinners with various people she'd worked with over the years.

Then, she immediately began to organise her post-resignation plan.

She opened new bank accounts, obtained permits and the like.

She formally employed Billy Keikeya. Billy had a way with people. He reminded her a lot of Richard when he ran for Mayor. His quiet charm worked like magic and their lobbying efforts reaped immediate rewards.

She was excited by the entire project. She hadn't felt excited about anything in a long time. She felt like she'd woken up after a long hibernation, renewed and rejuvenated. And now she realised she wanted to share that feeling with Bill.

She swore again. Bill Adama wasn't that immature to break off all contact with her just because they had a petty argument and she hadn't called him for a few weeks, was he? Of course not. What was she thinking? She should know that about him by now. He had told her he was in love with her. In her heart she had already known how he felt about her. She also knew in her heart his feelings wouldn't diminish after one argument and a couple of weeks' silence.

She'd call him when he returned from Virgon, invite him out for dinner, and tell him all about her plans for the future.

0.0.0

Bill threw his duffle bag in the doorway and immediately walked over to his answering machine. He could see it blinking in the darkness. He hoped one of the messages was from Laura.

"_Dad. I just wanted to say… I'm sorry for…not making it to the Decommissioning Ceremony. Seeing me there would only have reminded you that I was a failure in the Fleet, and would have only added to your disappointment. I wanted you to know I've been accepted into Law school. Who'd have thought? Another lawyer in the family."_

The machine beeped. He sighed heavily. He didn't know where Lee got the idea from that he was a failure in the Fleet or that he would ever be disappointed in him. He had spoken to all of Lee's superiors and read all his service history. Lee was clearly a naturally gifted pilot. His problem had been his lack of interest, not his lack of skill.

Bill wasn't keen on the Law idea but he'd be proud of his son no matter what he did. He always knew that Lee had a real interest in the law. He could only hope that he didn't make the same errors in judgement his grandfather had.

The answering machine beeped again. A familiar feminine voice came on the line.

_"Boss. Hey. It's me. I…I need help. Yeah, I know, I'm a class A screw up. I'm on Picon. At Fleet HQ. They've got a really nice brig. Much more comfortable racks than Galactica, I tell you. I think I might have frakked up really big this time, Boss. I'm facing four separate Court Martial charges. I need you. Please."_

Turning, Bill picked his duffle bag, walked out of his apartment and locked the door behind him.

Outside on the kerb, he hailed a taxi.

"The airport," he told the driver.

0.0.0

Laura picked up her telephone and dialled Bill's number. Again, her call connected to his answering machine. She hung up. He had said he'd be away for two weeks. It was now almost three. She tried not to panic, thinking that something had happened to him while on Virgon.

Maybe she should try and find where he and Saul Tigh were staying...

Billy walked into her new office.

"Your boarding pass, Ms Roslin," he said, handing her a slip of paper. "If there's nothing else, I think I'll head off home to pack."

"Thank you, Billy. No, that's fine. I'll see you at the airport in the morning."

She tidied her desk. She would ring Bill again later. If she didn't get a hold of him tonight, she would miss him before she left.


	13. Chapter 13

**The end of another fic! I'll see what I can post next! LOL Thanks for all the guest reviews which I can't reply to.**

"You'd better have good news," Laura said to Billy as he walked into their new field office.

"No, Ms Roslin. They're saying another week."

"Another week? You have to be kidding me. These people are worse than the Teachers' Union. I thought once we were here on site, we'd resolve some of these issues. We've been here for almost two weeks and I feel like we've made no progress whatsoever."

"Well, I've got more bad news. The interpreter has disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"I have a feeling he might be dependent on drugs."

"We had a drug addict for an interpreter? No wonder these people don't trust us."

"I called the agency, and they're trying to find a replacement."

"Trying to find a replacement? How difficult can it be? Everyone here is bilingual. I was in charge of their curriculum long enough to know both languages are taught in school. The language barrier is a crock. "

"Agreed. But if we call them on it, they are bound to be even more insulted. Going along with the farce of an interpreter is the only thing to do."

Laura sighed and flung her glasses off. "No," she said.

"Sorry?"

"No. I'm not going to sit here and let them dictate to me. We're paying them for a job and it's about time they kept their side of the bargain. I have people offering us gratis services and the ones we are actually paying are letting us down. I'm going to talk to the foreman."

"Um, Ms Roslin, that may not be the best idea."

"On the contrary, Billy, I think it's the best idea I've had in two weeks." Laura stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

0.0.0

Bill had never seen a more amusing sight than the one that greeted him that morning – Laura Roslin standing on a building site, wearing a short skirt, high heels and a hard hat. With one hand on her hip, the other gestured wildly at a big, burly man with a dark, bushy beard who towered over her. Laura looked like a tiny terrier snapping at a Rottweiler's heels.

As Bill moved closer to them, he could see the man was covered with traditional Tauron tattoos. He was a sinister sight looming over the petite immaculate lady from upper class Caprica, yet she did not seem one bit intimidated. His heart swelled with pride that she was the woman he had chosen to love.

0.0.0

Laura was frustrated as hell. She knew, without a doubt, the foreman understood every word she said.

"Where do your children go to school?" she asked.

He frowned down at her and shook his head slightly, once again pretending not to comprehend.

"Do you think they'll complete school? Or will they drop out? Live on unemployment benefits?"

The man growled a Tauron curse.

Another voice, speaking Tauron also, came from behind her. Its familiar gravelly timbre, even when speaking a language foreign to her, calmed her and filled her with optimism.

She watched as Bill shook hands with the foreman and then listened intently to his grievances. Occasionally he nodded encouragingly. When the man paused, Bill spoke briefly, then turned to her.

"Maybe you could show me the site plans," he said.

She was momentarily dazed, but gathered herself together. "Of course, they're in the office."

"Lead the way."

Bill stood in between her and the foreman at a desk in the small demountable shed that served as her field office, studying the building plans. It seemed extremely crowded in the small room. Laura concentrated on keeping her mannerisms business-like. Bill Adama's proximity was making her body tingle with anticipation. She was sure he brushed against her deliberately a few times.

"Which buildings do you need finished first, Laura?" Bill asked.

"This main one. It will be the administration, staff rooms, storage and the library. These two building are general learning areas." She pointed out the relevant buildings as she spoke. "They all need to be ready before we can enrol any students. This one will have a kitchen area for cooking classes at one end and a science lab at the other. I'd like that one done as soon as possible, too. Tauron chefs are in great demand on the other colonies. This building is the toilet block. Obviously, it will need to be completed as well. These four extra buildings are music, drama, woodwork, mechanics and more general classrooms. They can wait."

Bill turned back to the contractor and spoke in his native tongue again.

He then turned to Billy. "Billy, do you have any contacts over at the Justice Department?"

"Um, Justice?" Billy looked as confused as Laura was by his question. "I think I went to college with a girl who works in their finance department."

"Perfect." Bill looked at Laura. "The company you hired finished building the four new Tauron Court House buildings over six months ago. They've only received ten percent of their payment from the Justice Department. Their employees are refusing to work for any government departments until they get their money."

"But I'm not a government department. Did you tell him that?"

"I told him that if you said you'd pay him, you would. I said you were an honourable person." He turned back to Billy. "Billy, would you try and contact the Justice Department – find out what the hold up is."

"Yes, sir," Billy said.

"He says you've insisted no overtime will be paid."

"I can't afford it. I'll pay them to work a 40 hour week, but I can't be responsible for their tardiness," Laura said firmly. "Can you try and explain that this will be a privately managed school? We're going to accept all Tauron children who want to learn - at no cost. The school will be administered using charitable funds. I have wealthy patrons and corporate sponsors eager to donate enough to fund these initial building costs, employ the teachers and cover all other expenses involved in running a school for two years. I've taken into account we may need contingencies after the buildings are completed, but I can't promise extravagances like overtime when they haven't even swung a hammer yet."

Bill spoke to the contractor at length before turning back to her.

"They'll be pouring the concrete for the slab of the Administration building first thing in the morning if you agree to advance them 30% of the total project cost," he said.

"Advance?"

"His crew have had to resort to working on the wharves for cash-in-hand just to feed their families. He will need to give them some incentive if he's going to convince them to return to site."

"How will I know that they won't just pocket the advance and still not start with the construction?"

"Because he said they will, and a Tauron is always true to his word." Bill tilted his chin slightly higher with pride.

"Tauron's are honourable people too," she said, giving him a faint smile.

He smiled back. "Yes."

"Okay." Laura turned to Billy. "Can you arrange for the payment to go through this afternoon, Billy?"

"Yes, ma'am."

After Bill shook hands and bid the Tauron contractor goodbye, he turned back to Laura with a frown.

"Why don't you have a project manager sorting this type of thing out, Laura?"

"I did, for one week, until a Libran mining company offered him twice the amount of money I was paying him. That pile of papers over there are the new applicants." She sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "Everything was going smoothly until then. I should have known it couldn't last."

"This is quite an ambitious project."

"Yes."

Bill studied her for a moment before turning to Billy. "Billy, did you have a contract with the project manager?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you a new blank version? May I look at it?"

"Yes, sir."

Billy shuffled on his desk and handed Bill the document.

Bill flicked through the pages of the contract.

"What's wrong?" Laura asked.

"Who said anything's wrong?" Bill motioned for Billy to hand him a pen, and signed the bottom of the contract. "I'll start tomorrow, if that's okay. I was planning on playing hooky with the boss this afternoon."

"Bill, you can't do the job."

"Why not? I speak Tauron fluently. I am Tauron. I was, until recently, in charge of a crew of approximately 4000 on a Battlestar so I'm sure I can handle the few construction workers you need wrangled. I'm willing to accept the salary you've listed here. In fact, you can probably lower it if you like. I even have experience with fundraisers – my ex-wife's specialty – so I can also offer you a plethora of contacts. And I won't leave you in the lurch for a Libran mining company."

Laura stared at Bill. She had missed him so much over the last few weeks. It had been different than when he was on Galactica. She knew where he was then. This time it had been a mystery and she only now admitted she had been worried.

Now he was here, offering to stay, to help her with the one job that she was determined to be successful at. The entire project had been falling apart over the last few days, and he'd swept in and sorted things out in a matter of minutes.

How did that make her feel? Inadequate? Too dependent? Or relieved that she had someone to lean on and discuss problems with?

"Billy, why don't you take an early lunch break? Come back in an hour and arrange the payments to the contracting company."

Her lips curled into a small smile when Billy almost ran out of the office.

"Bill, we can't work together."

"Why not?"

"Because, because-" Bill seized the opportunity when she started stammering. He began rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms.

Suddenly she was once again all too aware of his proximity in the small office. "Because we will argue," she finally managed.

"Yeah," he agreed. "So?"

His mouth lowered and he kissed the hollow of her neck. Desire washed through her instantly.

"I've missed you," he said.

She whimpered as their lips met. Staying in his arms, letting him go on kissing her for days, was an attractive prospect. Using every ounce of resistance she could muster, she pulled away from him. "We can't," she whispered. "We'll be in each other's pockets day and night. What if familiarity leads to contempt?"

He grinned at her. "You do realise what you've just suggested, don't you?"

She frowned at him. Confused, she shook her head.

"Each other's pockets. Day and night," he repeated her words. "I don't remember seeing that clause in the contract, Ms Roslin. Where the project manager has to be with the CEO during the night as well as the day. However, if you're inviting me to live with you, the answer's 'yes'."

"Bill—," she started, only to have him cut her off with one of his gentle kisses. She lost her train of thought. Eventually their lips broke apart, but he immediately pulled her into his embrace. "I missed you," he whispered into her hair.

"I hadn't heard from you for so long," she said, concentrating on keeping her voice even.

"I know. I'm sorry. My kids had some issues I needed to sort out."

"Kids?"

"Yeah, I'll explain later. First we should tidy up everything that needs doing here so we can lock up for the afternoon. I think some sort of reunion is in order."

Somehow she found herself doing just what he suggested.

0.0.0

Bill looked down at Laura as she snuggled against his side. He'd loved Jaycie; he'd loved Carolanne; what he felt for Laura was on an entirely different level. If she held firm on not wanting him to take the project manager's position, he wasn't sure how his heart would take it.

"If I hire you as a Tauron expert, the first thing I'd want you to do is find me somewhere to live. Some nice area where I'd feel safe, but nothing too ostentatious. Wouldn't look good if I was begging for money to build a school, but living in a palatial mansion by the sea."

"I can think of a couple of suitable places. How many bedrooms?"

"Two. A master suite and a spare for guests. My partner has children, apparently. They may visit."

He concentrated on keeping his face impassive even though a grin was ready to break out at any moment.

"Bill," she whispered.

"Yeah?"

She moved and positioned herself so they were face to face. "I can't guarantee I'll be easy to live with. I've never lived with anyone before. Except my parents."

"If you're looking for good references, I may be in trouble, too," he said.

"I'm a workaholic. I'll probably talk about the school at home. I won't be able to switch off just because I'm out of the office."

"I'll understand. And we will fight, Laura. We're both stubborn and opinionated. But I'm not going to run out the door the first time we don't agree on something. In fact, I'll never run out the door. If you want me gone, you're gonna have to physically push me out."

She laughed. "I'm not sure I'd have the strength."

"Good."

He knocked her arms out from under her so she fell down onto his chest. She giggled and their mouths found each other for another kiss.

"We'll need a bookcase," she murmured against his skin.

"Definitely."

"And you have to do the cooking," she teased, playfully moving down to indulgently kiss and caress his chest.

"Tauron chefs are in great demand."

She snorted before her face suddenly turned serious. "I love you," she said. "I'm not sure how or when it happened, but I do."

Bill held her gaze.

"I know."

THE END


End file.
